Harry Prewett and the Case of Illegal Time Travel
by thegenuineimitation
Summary: Harry wakes up in the custody of the Department of Mysteries, Office of Time Travel. Marauders' Era. Slash M/M .
1. Chapter 1: The Time Travel Office

**Harry Prewett and the Case of Inadvertent Illegal Time Travel**

**Chapter One: The Office of Time Travel**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter

**Author's Note:** Welcome everyone to my domain! Just to let you know this is a Marauders Era Time Travel fic, I'll try not to be too cliche, that will eventually be containing Slash (M/M), violence, Character Death, sexual situations and possibly torture. M rated for a reason and particularly sensitive chapters will have additional warnings, readers you have been warned continue at your own peril! Reviews are always welcome and suggestions about plot and pairing will be taken into consideration. The more you talk the more likely I am to listen. For those of you waiting on updates for my other stories, I shrug, I've gotten the next chapter of Halved up and I have another chapter or so of this waiting in the wings but we're coming up on exams and I don't have enough chapter content for other updates, that being said if you want to send me a review with a list of all the reasons you want an update or a rant about how slow at updating I am I will be happy to read it! Without further ado...

* * *

When Harry woke up he was tied to a chair.

It wasn't a particularly comfortable chair either, wooden and straight backed and there were ropes digging into his wrists and ankles.

As soon as the fog cleared from his mind he began tugging at his bonds, squinting to try and make out his surroundings as he'd lost his glasses at some point.

"He's awake," grunted a raspy sounding female voice.

"Dose him," said a male with a velvety voice.

"He's not of age,"

"Doesn't matter, policy states..."

The female grunted.

Her features swam into focus as she approached him she was short with sharp features and a lot of bushy black hair, she was clearly a dwarf.

"Get away from me!" hissed Harry struggling.

The she-dwarf snorted grabbed his jaw in a vicelike grip and forced a single drop of a familiar potion onto his tongue. Almost immediately Harry began to feel lightheaded and more than a little tipsy, they hadn't given him a full dose then; otherwise he'd be beyond thinking.

"What is your first name?" asked the velvet voiced man.

"Harry," said Harry without really thinking about it.

"What year is it?"

"1995,"

"How old are you?"

"Fifteen,"

"Why are you here?"

Harry felt his features shift into a puzzled expression and he took a long moment to look at the blurry outline of a dark room.

"Dunno," he shrugged, "Can't see a damned thing. Where am I?"

"What is the last memory you have before waking up here?"

"I was trying to clear out," Harry paused, he didn't want to give away Sirius' name or the fact that he was involved in the Order, "My godfather's house,"

"Did you need to use time travel to do it?"

"No,"

"Have you ever travelled through time?"

"Yes,"

"When?"

"When I was thirteen,"

"Why?"

"To rescue a hippogriff and my godfather...he gets into trouble a lot," Harry felt he needed to explain.

"Hmmph," grunted the female.

"Do you have any plans to take over the world, cheat the stock market, or otherwise use time travel for your own gain?"

"No," said Harry shaking his head.

The muzzy feeling in his head was beginning to wear off and Harry found their questions more than a little odd.

"Can I have my glasses?" he asked.

"I'm afraid we don't know where they are,"

Harry frowned.

"Where am I?"

"Just one more quick test, Harry, and then we'll explain everything,"

Harry felt a light prick on his left middle finger and then the man moved off to the right and Harry heard the clinking and clanking of potions vials as well as the rustle of parchment.

"Nearest relative over the age of twenty five...Violet Cherie Potter nee Prewett, not surprising, you do have the Potter look about you, Harry,"

The odd fuzziness brought on by the Veritaserum was fading and Harry squinted at the man who was reading a bit of parchment and scribbling the occasional note on a second parchment.

"Grella, if you would please get this set up," he instructed the she-dwarf.

Grella scanned the parchment he handed her, grunted and presumably left the room because her footsteps faded to the point where Harry couldn't hear them anymore.

"Where am I? Who are you? What the bloody hell is going on?" Harry demanded straining at the ropes that bound him.

"Terribly sorry about the ropes Harry, it's standard procedure I'm afraid, you never can be too careful, "

Harry felt the ropes around his wrists and ankles slither away and he rubbed some feeling back into them watching the blur he thought was the man suspiciously.

"As to your questions, you are in the Department of Mysteries' Office of Time Travel, and I am the Time Traveler Relations and Dispersal Manager, Mr. Hotchkiss. We are terribly sorry about the Veritaserum and the bonds but you would not believe the amount of people who travel through time for personal gain. As it is we have ruled your incident of travel accidental and you will be allowed to rejoin the world once an appropriate alias has been constructed for you,"

"Can't you just send me back to when I came from?" asked Harry.

"Unfortunately no, just by arriving so far in the past you have split the timeline, either that or you were always meant to travel to this moment and your being here will facilitate events in the future, either way the future you know doesn't exist right now. Even if we could send you forward, which we can't, there's no guarantee you would even arrive in the proper dimension,"

"Ooookay then, er...when am I exactly?"

"The date today is Thursday July 6th 1975,"

Harry paled. He was stranded twenty years in the past.

"Now, now, no need to look quite so ill, we have measures in place for people like you,"

"What kind of measures?"

"Well, since you're underage we will contact your closest living relation over the age of twenty-five and place you in their care is they are amiable. We'll construct a feasible new identity for you and file the appropriate paperwork to make it legal, we will give you a small sum, I believe you are up for 200 Galleons, and pay for your Hogwarts tuition,"

"Er...wow, thanks I suppose," said Harry running a hand through his perpetually messy hair.

"Not at all, it's a rare treat not to have to toss you through the Veil,"

"Er...what Veil?"

"That I'm afraid is something I'm not allowed to speak about,"

Harry squirmed a bit in his seat, not sure if he wanted to know about the Veil or not. Luckily Mr. Hotchkiss didn't seem to notice his discomfort.

"Now while we are waiting for Grella, if you would be so kind as to answer a few questions so that I can start filing the paperwork and making the appropriate arrangements,"

"Sure," shrugged Harry.

"Feel free not to answer anything if you feel it will be damaging for the future, I quite understand," Mr. Hotchkiss added.

There was a rustle of paper as he prepared to take notes.

"Now Harry, I assume you were attending Hogwarts prior to your accident,"

"Yes, I was going into my fifth year,"

"In which house?"

"Gryffindor,"

"I see, bravery, an excellent quality to have in your situation. What was your date of birth?"

"July 31st,"

"So you will be turning fifteen in a few weeks?"

"No actually I just turned fifteen two weeks ago,"

"Alright, to keep continuity your new birth date will be June 22nd 1960,"

Harry nodded chewing on his lip.

"Are there any medical conditions we should be aware of?"

"Er...no I don't think so, just my eyes, I mean I've been injured loads but that isn't really a condition," Harry rambled though he privately thought Madam Pomfrey would disagree with that statement.

"Any interesting magical abilities?"

"I'm a parselmouth," Harry shrugged.

"Parselmouth, that is rare, I wasn't aware the Potters had the ability in their family,"

"It's from my Mum's side," Harry lied blandly.

"Hn, and what about your grades?"

"I'm passing everything but I'm pretty rubbish at Divination, History and Potions, I'm okay at Herbology and Astronomy, I'm pretty good in Charms, Transfiguration and Care of Magical Creatures, and I'm getting top marks in Defence,"

"Good, good, that should make for believable transcripts. Were you very involved in school clubs?"

"I was the Gryffindor Team seeker, and I was in duelling club in second year but then it was disbanded when the Defence professor ended up in St. Mungo's,"

"I see, that is certainly interesting. Now, what about your blood status?"

"I don't see how that's relevant," said Harry coolly.

"I know you may feel uncomfortable discussing it, especially considering the current political clime, but the Goblins and St. Mungos will know your blood status and we need to make a compatible identity," Mr. Hotchkiss said.

"My father was a pureblood, my mother a muggleborn witch,"

"There must be a squib or two in her ancestry if you got the parselmouth ability from her," he commented.

Harry shrugged, "I didn't know my parents, I was raised by my mum's sister and her husband,"

"My condolences,"

"Thanks,"

"It does however make a rather convenient back-story,"

Harry snorted.

"Happy to be of service,"

Either Mr. Hotchkiss did not hear him or he chose to ignore him in favour of the recently returned Grella because he made no comment.

"Ah, Grella, wonderful timing!" he exclaimed.

Grella grunted and handed Harry a pair of glasses with thin silver metal frames. Harry put them on and his world came slowly back into focus.

"Magical glasses, they automatically adjust to your prescription, very useful," Mr. Hotchkiss explained.

Harry took in his surroundings. They were vaguely familiar and Harry supposed he must have seen something similar in his one and only foray into the Ministry for that blasted trial. There was a workbench with a tall stack of parchment and a number of strange potions along one wall and Mr. Hotchkiss sat on a cushioned stool with his back facing the bench along the wall behind Harry there were several doors with labels like, Veil Room, Potion's Lab, Storage, Holding Cells, Mr. Hotchkiss' Office, Disguise Centre, Paperwork Room, Office for the Transfer of Funds, and more of the same.

Mr. Hotchkiss was a handsome man just past his prime with thick brown hair that was silvering at the temples, and was wearing a pair of sleek rectangular glasses similar to the ones Harry now sported, spotless black pinstriped robes and shiny dress shoes. His teeth were very white and straight and his eyes were bracketed by laugh lines.

Grella handed him an official looking form and Mr. Hotchkiss perused it for a moment.

"Excellent, it seems your finances are ready, 160 galleons after a deduction of 40 galleons as a fee for unplanned non-malicious time travel. Once we've filed the rest of your paperwork we'll set up a vault at Gringotts and deposit it there under your new name,"

"Alright," agreed Harry.

"Excellent! Now as for your new identity you will be Harry Prewett, your father was Gregorius Prewett and he married your mother Louise Williams, an American muggleborn witch, your father died in a Nundu attack in the Amazon and your mother in a potions accident when you were very young, you lived with your Aunt and Uncle, who didn't like you very much and moved to Surrey when you were five you attended the Penruffle School of Wizardry at age eleven and when your aunt died you were foisted on your Aunt Violet in accordance with Gregorius' will, who enrolled you in Hogwarts,"

"Er... what if Mrs. Potter doesn't want me?" Harry asked.

"Then we'll think of another back-story, don't worry about memorizing it just yet, we'll give you an official copy with some further necessary details when we get the paperwork filed sometime this week,"

"Contacted Violet Potter, she's agreed to come down for four," Grella added.

"Excellent, that leaves us just enough time to get you into disguise," Mr. Hotchkiss said rising from his seat and moving over to the door marked Disguise Centre.

Harry got up and followed him through the door.

The Disguise Centre looked to Harry like a cross between a potion's lab, a fabric depot, and the hair salon Aunt Petunia had frequented in his younger years for her perms.

"Hotchkiss," greeted a cool female voice.

"Collette, lovely to see you,"

Collette, a witch in a grey pantsuit with a severe black bob and piercing grey eyes, raised one thin eyebrow and turned to Harry.

"Who are we making him look like?" she asked examining Harry critically.

"A Prewett if you please, Collette,"

"Go file your paperwork Hotchkiss and save your charm for the Boss, I'll transform the boy,"

"Then I will leave Harry in your capable hands,"

Collette paid Mr. Hotchkiss no heed but whipped out her wand and flicked it sharply at Harry several times.

"Oi!" Harry protested as his clothes fell away leaving him in a pair of threadbare grey boxers and his socks.

"Relax, you haven't got anything I haven't seen before," said Collette in a manner that was less than comforting as she looked him up and down dubiously.

"Francine, I need blond!" she shouted.

Harry jumped at the sudden shout, the woman had a set of lungs on her and a voice like a whip crack.

"Oui, Madame Collette!" squeaked a short woman in grey robes appearing seemingly out of nowhere and disappearing again down one of the many aisles.

"What are you..."

"Hush, I need to concentrate, these are delicate spells and they need to be permanent!" she scolded him.

Harry stood still and scowled as she waved her wand over his body and he felt his skin wiggle and his bones shift slightly. The assistant in the grey robes, Francine, joined them and began massaging yellow goop onto his head while muttering spells in French and Latin.

Collette stepped back to survey him after what felt like forever but was probably only a half-hour at most. She nodded satisfied and summoned a book.

She handed it to Harry.

"Pick one," she ordered.

"Er...why?" asked Harry glancing down at the designs in the book.

"We need to anchor the spells to make them permanent, the tattoo will serve as an anchor and go over your heart, these are anchor designs that are decorative and well disguised," Collette said impatiently.

Harry surveyed his options and finally pointed to one he liked.

"Can you make it big, so it covers my ribs?" he asked.

"I do not recommend it, it will be distinctly unattractive as your skin loses its elasticity,"

"Oh, er...is there any way to make it shrink in stages or something?"

"Oui," said Collette rolling her eyes and muttering something about males and compensation.

The tattoo was a thin, three fingers wide at the widest point, black Chinese style dragon with a lion's tail, closed eyes, and smoke curling from one of its nostrils. Its head was pillowed over Harry's heart and the body snaked over his ribs leaving the tip of the tail to curl in the hollow of his hip.

The pain of getting it done was nothing less than excruciating but it only lasted for a moment and Harry thought the dragon was cool enough to be worth it.

It took another twenty minutes, during which the entirety of his new tattoo itched abominably and he was smacked across the back of the head for squirming, to anchor the changes to his body permanently.

"Now, the tattoo will change shape, curling up into a smaller spiral every ten years, the spiral should be permanent by the time you reach the age of fifty-five, but I want you to monitor your disguise carefully, the anchor shouldn't be affected by the position and shape of the tattoo but if the spells are disrupted you will need to come in for Disguise tweaking," Collette instructed, before snapping at him to keep still and returning to her work.

When all of the muttering chanting and wand waving was finished Collette conjured him a full length mirror and Harry blinked in surprise at the figure reflected there. Harry Prewett was the same height as Harry Potter at about five seven, they had the same figure, slender to the point of being scrawny with knobby knees. He had Lily Evans' almond shaped green eyes and James Potter's general features except for his nose which was longer and straighter and sported a sprinkling of freckles that reminded Harry of Ron. The little body hair he sported had been lightened to a medium shade of brown. His hair was still messy but it was also longer and a golden blond color and had been brushed back from his face displaying the lightning bolt scar. Harry resisted the urge to comb his fringe forward with his fingers and cover the scar as for once his hair actually looked good and he didn't want to spoil it.

"I don't even recognize myself," Harry muttered adjusting his glasses nervously.

"Good, it means I've done my job," Collette said briskly.

"Hn," Harry grunted.

"Francine!" snapped Collette.

The little witch in the grey robes appeared seemingly out of thin air with a stack of clothes and a pair of black dress shoes in Harry's size. The outfit was a pair of black trousers a white button down and a grey blazer. They were all in Harry's size, and Harry put them on gratefully, not comfortable standing around in his socks and underwear in front of strangers.

Collette turned her back to give him some privacy and Francine disappeared again.

"Where is Hotchkiss?" the snippy Mistress of Disguise demanded of no one in particular.

As if summoned Mr. Hotchkiss waltzed through the door with Grella in tow.

"Is Harry, ready? Ah yes, I can see he is, very good work Collette you have outdone yourself, he looks exactly like an attractive version of Gregorius at fifteen,"

Collette sniffed, unaffected by Mr. Hotchkiss' praise. She turned on her heel and strode purposefully deeper into the disguise centre.

"Francine!" she snapped.

Mr. Hotchkiss winced, "Poor girl, I don't envy her having to deal with Collette every day," he said shaking his head, "Come with me, Mr. Prewett, your Aunt Violet is here to see you,"

* * *

**AN:** Hope you all enjoyed! I know that I'm tweaking the Potter family history a bit more than necessary but I like the idea of a big happy pre-war Potter clan. What do you think? OCs, cousins or younger sibs that could have been killed in the war or just leave James alone and unmolested? Let me know with a review or two!


	2. Chapter 2: In Which There is Tea

**Harry Prewett and the Case of Inadvertent Illegal Time Travel**

**Chapter Two: In Which there is Tea**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter.

**Author's Note**: Thanks to everyone who reviewed, alerted, and favorited, good to know I'm doing something right! Enjoy!

* * *

Harry was led out of the Time Travel Office and through the dark unfamiliar halls of the Department of Mysteries where they took innumerable turns and Harry got very lost until finally they reached what Harry privately dubbed the Room of Doors and went through a door that led to a very bare and uncomfortable looking lounge that sported a lot of black leather furniture, a tea service and a short witch in her thirties with ginger hair coiled in a loose bun at the nape of her neck and thin rectangular glasses perched on her straight nose. She was wearing comfortable looking black robes over a pair of grey pants and a white blouse. There were pearls at her throat and ears and because of her rather full lower lip her otherwise no nonsense expression looked petulant.

"Ah Mrs. Potter, thank you for coming at such short notice," said Mr. Hotchkiss smoothly as he glided into the room.

Harry shoved his hands in his pant pockets and tried to look inconspicuous lingering in the doorway.

"Why am I here Mr. Hotchkiss?" asked Mrs. Potter sounding stern.

"Yes well, there seems to have been a bit of an accident involving time travel, I would like to present to you your long lost nephew, Harry Prewett,"

Mr. Hotchkiss flourished his hands a bit it a theatrical manner that made Harry want to squirm uncomfortably.

Mrs. Potter's bright blue eyes took in Harry's form with the same clinical gaze that Collette had used. Harry gathered his courage and met her gaze straight on, he didn't, after all, want to show weakness in front of this formidable witch.

"He looks like my brother, only handsome," she said noncommittally.

"Yes, yes, that is because of the disguise we engineered for him, you are in any case his closest living relative over the age of twenty five, and I assure you his appearance prior to our modifications was the very image of your late husband and son,"

Mrs. Potter looked him over again this time as if she were trying to gauge his character.

"I am Violet Potter, though I suppose you've already been told that, and I suppose I'm your Aunt," she shrugged holding out one delicate looking hand.

Harry smiled a bit hesitantly.

"I'm Harry, it's, er... nice to meet you,"

"I'm sorry it's under such suspicious circumstances,"

"Well, that's my fault I think," Harry pointed out.

Mrs. Potter smiled slightly.

"An honest boy, excellent, you're about the same age as my son James, you know, I think you'll get on splendidly,"

"Not to be rude or anything but does that mean you'll...er...take me?"

"Of course, you're family! Nothing is more important!" she declared.

"Excellent!" Mr. Hotchkiss interrupted, "Now, Harry here will have to lay low for a few days while we get everything organized but then you may feel free to start integrating him into our time,"

"Yes, you'll need school things, a wand, new clothes, you can borrow some of James' things for now but I can't imagine you'll want to parade about in hand-me-downs,"

Harry didn't bother to tell Mrs. Potter he'd worn hand-me-downs all his life, it seemed a moot point considering the circumstances.

"...and you must call me Aunt Violet of course," she finished nodding decisively as she set down her untouched cup of tea.

"Er...of course," Harry agreed.

"If you will excuse me Mr. Hotchkiss, my nephew must be exhausted from the day's events, we will be headed home now,"

"That's quite alright Mrs. Potter, I understand completely, I will show you out,"

Mr. Hotchkiss led them out to the familiar corridor where Harry had spotted Lucius Malfoy bribing Fudge not even a week ago. He shook his head wonderingly and followed Violet as she strode to the lift and sent them whizzing up towards the Ministry Atrium.

"Er...Aunt Violet," he started.

"Not yet, wait until we're out of the Ministry," she instructed.

Harry did as she asked pointedly ignoring the whispers and stares that followed them, curious to note that for once they weren't whispering and staring at him but at his Aunt. He wondered what she'd done to kick the hornet's nest.

"Almost there, take my arm now Harry. Have you ever Side-Along Apparated before?" she asked in a low voice as he linked an arm through hers and they approached an apparation point.

"Er...no,"

"Alright, just try and clear your mind and whatever you do don't let go," she ordered.

Harry's grip tightened involuntarily and all of a sudden it felt rather like he'd been jammed into a small tube. It was over fairly quickly as they reappeared with a snap like popped gum. Harry staggered away from Violet feeling distinctly odd.

"There's a lad, put your head between your knees if you feel dizzy, it might take a moment," said Violet patting his back soothingly and seeming much more relaxed than she had been a moment before.

Harry looked up and took in his surroundings, they were standing at an unkempt looking apparation point in a small Wizarding village Harry had never been to before.

"Where are we?"

"Hollybrook, not too far from Lionsgate Park," Violet explained, "I hope you don't mind but I wanted to get to know you better and have a decent spot of tea and a little chat,"

"Not at all," Harry shrugged.

It wasn't like he had any choice in the matter.

"Lovely, we'll just pop by the Holly Cafe then,"

The Holly Cafe was a quaint little gingerbread looking house that had been converted into a Cafe by knocking out all the unnecessary walls adding large windows and lots of comfortable mismatched seating.

"Mrs. Potter," greeted the girl behind the counter who could not have been much older than Harry.

She was pretty enough with a sleek brown ponytail and under her black apron she was wearing muggle jeans and a t-shirt.

"Hello Laura, this is my nephew Harry, Harry this is Laura Pennywhistle she's a fifth year Hufflepuff this year,"

"Nice to meet you," Harry said smiling slightly.

"You too, would you like your usual Mrs. Potter?"

"Yes, that would be lovely; will you have tea Harry or something else?"

"Coffee, please, black two sugars," Harry said addressing Laura.

"Coming right up,"

Violet led them to a table in the corner with a view of the patio where an elderly couple were drinking iced teas and watching the ducks in the pond.

"This is a nice place," Harry commented.

"Yes, I've been coming here for ages, my late husband, Jim, and I came here on quite a few dates back when Laura's mother worked here,"

"I'm er...sorry for your loss," Harry said.

"Thank you, that's why I was so eager to get out of the Ministry you see, Jim was a senior Auror and he died there in his office not even a full year ago. The official report is that it was a heart attack but I suspect and his mother agrees with me that it was a kind of contact poison that killed him. The Minister...well, I'll not bore you with the details, suffice to say the bureaucratic vultures trip over themselves to wrench the gory details out of me hoping to get a scandalous tidbit they can lord over their superiours. I have no wish to remain in that place longer than absolutely necessary,"

Harry wasn't quite sure what he could say to this and was glad when Laura arrived with the tea and coffee and he had a chance to gather his thoughts and put his questions in order.

"I have a few questions..."

"Of course, I'm sure you won't mind answering a few of mine as well if you're able,"

"Not at all, first, what's Lionsgate Park?"

Violet started.

"You don't know? Mr. Hotchkiss said you looked...well never mind. Lionsgate Park is the Potter Family Seat, our largest and oldest estate; you should have grown up there..."

"My parents died when I was young, I lived with my muggle relatives," Harry explained.

"Oh, yes, I see...well, Lionsgate is, of course, unplottable and well warded, we have several acres of yard and gardens that my son James uses as a makeshift Quidditch pitch and we have several bonded house-elves to keep up with the maintenance and help out for dinner parties and such. You will be responsible for keeping your own room clean and doing your own laundry. My mother-in-law, your Great-Aunt I suppose, Dorea, likes to cook and she usually cooks when it's just the family,"

"That sounds nice," Harry said.

"It would sound nice until you find out that Dorea is an expert on poisons, mixing them, detecting them, and administering them," said Violet wryly.

"No one has died at the table yet I take it," Harry said.

Violet smiled.

"Not just yet,"

"Alright so what are you going to do with me?"

Violet sighed.

"Well, I know it's short notice but we can probably get everything you need as far as clothes and toiletries and such are concerned tomorrow. I'll no doubt be getting an owl from Albus and Minerva sometime this evening, you were a Gryffindor weren't you...well no matter I deal very well with all the staff, with the trouble James gets into I have to, and we'll be able to sort out your school things and get you a wand immediately,"

"Sounds good, I feel kind of naked without one,"

"Harry, you're not just cut off from your magic you must understand, without a wand you are vulnerable to certain dark forces that have been gaining power," Violet shook her head gravely, "There are dark days ahead, I want to get you protected as quickly as possible,"

Harry sighed inwardly at the same old protect Harry song and dance. He wasn't helpless he could take care of himself. He didn't want to say anything about these familiar frustrations to Violet however as she'd only known him for about an hour and was being good enough to take him in.

"Enough of this dark talk," she said briskly shaking her head, "Now, James and probably at least one of his friends from school are going to be home in a few days and will spend the last three weeks of summer here. Hotchkiss said they would send over the booklet with all of your back story and what-not by tomorrow. I...and I hope you agree, I think it's best to let everyone but Dorea, Charlus, and I believe that story,"

Harry nodded slowly, "Alright,"

"I don't think you should tell us anything about the future either, suffice it to say you're from there and you're a Potter, anything else is too much. I'm a firm believer in people not knowing too much about their own destiny, and quite frankly I have no wish to know which of my children or grandchildren will die in advance,"

"Alright, I think I can manage not to let anything slip," Harry agreed.

"I know it might be difficult for you..."

"It's fine, Aunt Violet, really, I'll manage,"

"Good,"

She took a sip of her tea and Harry gulped down a steadying swallow of coffee as their little corner of the room descended into awkward silence.

"So...what now?" asked Harry after a long moment.

"Well, I suppose we'll just head on up to Lionsgate and introduce you to the family," said Violet smiling.

She set her empty cup back on its saucer and stood purposefully. Harry quickly finished the last of his coffee and watched as Violet handed a few sickles over to Laura and said something to make the younger woman laugh and then motioned for him to follow her.

It was getting late in the day and the summer sun was turning more orange with each hour that passed.

"I hope you don't mind walking,"

"Not at all,"

"Lionsgate has more wards than the Ministry of magic, I'm afraid, anti-apparation, anti-portkey, plus some nastier bits my husband put in. They're very comforting and useful of course, but bloody annoying when we have visitors and house guests. I'll have to key you in at the gate,"

Harry nodded absently glancing around at the picturesque little town of Hollybrook as they strode down a side street and then followed a well kept but seldom used dirt road lined with trees and tall grass. They turned the corner and Harry got his first look at the ancestral seat of the Potters.

Lionsgate was a rather impressive patchwork of styles adding on to what must have once been a small castle, set on the crest of a hill and guarded by to stately looking white marble lions and a ten foot tall wrought iron gate. It was sprawling and rather lopsided but it had a certain combination of elegance and homey charm to it.

He turned to Violet who had been using his open-mouthed staring as an opportunity to flick her wand about and mutter spells under her breath.

"There we are," she said brightly as the lion statues began to shift and yawn.

Harry took a wide eyed step back and fumbled for a wand that wasn't there.

"Now, now, don't be frightened, just let them get a good whiff of you," Violet instructed patting the nearest statue on the head fondly.

Harry stood very still as the lions circled closer and began sniffing him and rubbing against him. The warm marble felt odd as it brushed against his leg but despite his fears of being mauled to death by marble lions, the ultimate irony, the statues merely completed their survey of him, accepted one last fond pat from Violet and then sprang back to their ready positions and stopped moving.

"Those are the ward anchors, ingenious isn't it? There isn't an intruder in the world who wouldn't be wary if he suddenly had two massive lions, stone or not, springing on him,"

"Yeah..." said Harry still wary himself.

"Come on Harry, time to meet the family!"

* * *

**AN:** And there you have it folks, Chapter Two.

Alright, for those of you who are feeling confused Violet is James' Mom (Harry's actual grandmother) but since he is pretending to be her older brother's son (rather than her grandson) he calls her Aunt Violet just like James will be Cousin James instead of Dad. Clearer?

Last chance to have your say on the issue of the current state of the Potter Clan, OCs or no?

For those of you wondering where the action is, don't worry it's coming up either in the next chapter or chapter four!

Pairings and plot points, feel free to review with some of your ideas, the more you pester me the more likely I am to be bent to your whims!

Last but certainly not least, please review! Reviews make me smile, and a smiling me is more likely to update than a frowning me! Seriously I always love hearing from you guys even if it's just to say what the flipping flapjacks is wrong with you woman!

Until next time!


	3. Chapter 3: Living Relations

**Harry Prewett and the Case of Inadvertent Illegal Time Travel**

**Chapter Three: Living Relations**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter.

**Author's Note:** Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed, alerted, or favourited! Due to popular vote there will be no new Potter siblings! On with the story!

* * *

Harry didn't know whether to be excited or nervous.

On the one hand he'd already met Violet and she'd turned out to be pretty cool and accepting so far. On the other hand there were the Dursleys to consider, they were after all related to him by blood, as much as he'd love to deny the connection, and they were horrible people. On a completely different hand all together, he really, really hoped that his newly acquired relations were nice, and that they liked him.

"Come on, Harry," called Violet who'd gotten a good few feet ahead of Harry while the teen wasn't paying attention.

Harry jogged to catch up with the older witch and followed her up the gravel drive, sticking his hands deep into his pockets and chewing on his lower lip.

Violet opened the door and breezed into the foyer which was not, as one might have expected, overly grand. The floors were wooden and worn smooth and shiny by generations of tromping feet and polishing elves, the winding staircase was also wood. There was a light brown mat in front of the door along with a line of pegs that sported a beaten looking green canvas jacket, a straw hat, a rain coat, and a pair of goggles.

There was a soft pop as Violet shrugged out of her robes and a house elf with large blue eyes and a small round nose dressed in some kind of uniform appeared.

"Mistress Violet is being late," scolded the house elf taking the robe from her.

"I am sorry, Fenn, but it couldn't be helped,"

"Mistress Potter is having dinner ready, she and Master Potter is being in the dining room," the house elf informed her.

"Of course. Fenn I would like you to meet my nephew, Harry, he'll be staying with us from now on, Harry, this is Fenn, our Head of Staff,"

"It is an honour to be meeting you Master Harry," said the elf bowing low.

"Er...thank you Fenn, it's good to meet you too," Harry said cautiously.

But unlike in his previous dealings with house elves this one did not seem offended or likely to burst into hysterical water works any time soon.

"Fenn, if you could arrange a room in the family suite for Harry, and a few of James' things for him to wear until we can get him his own clothes?"

"Of course Mistress, I will be seeing to it personally,"

The little creature then made another neat bow and popped away.

"Dear Fenn, he is always so responsible,"

"Er...I don't mean to be rude, but I can't help but notice how much better treated your house elves seem,"

"Yes, well, we Potters have always been rather odd ducks when it come to the welfare of our servants. It took my husband's grandfather three years to convince the elves that the uniforms he was giving them weren't clothes and that they should have free time and possessions of their own. Poor things, their race has been in slavery so long they've begun to expect mistreatment and have become wary of anything resembling decency,"

"Oh,"

"I know, it's terrible, just because the elves love cleaning, cooking, gardening, and housework and just because they need to be bonded to a wizarding family to sustain their magic does not give wizards the right to exploit and abuse them like so many do," said Violet shaking her head and moving off to the right.

She led Harry down a narrow wood panelled corridor and down a short flight of stone steps. Harry got a brief glimpse of the kitchen before being led through another hall and into a spacious looking informal dining room complete with a large, sturdy looking wooden table and large ivy framed windows that gave an excellent view of the side yard.

"Violet you're late,"

A husky female voice admonished sharply.

The speaker was a tallish woman with a long wild mane of black curls with nary a strand of grey and intelligent hooded black eyes bracketed by laugh lines. Her face seemed vaguely familiar to Harry, she had delicate, aristocratic features and her skin was bronzed from hours spent in the sun. She was holding a round serving dish printed with blue flowers and the smells emanating from it made Harry aware that he hadn't eaten more than a few tea biscuits all day.

"Terribly sorry, Dorea, my business with the ministry took longer than expected,"

"Hmph, this would be the business then," said Dorea flicking her unsympathetic gaze up and down his form.

"No discussing business at dinner, darling," chided a smooth male voice.

This voice belonged to a handsome man who looked rather like an older, taller, neater version of Harry pre-Collette. His jet black hair was combed back from his face and greying at the temples and his golden eyes and generous mouth were framed by deep set lines. He was lounging with the same sort of indolent grace Harry had always secretly admired about Malfoy despite the fact he was sitting in a straight-backed dinning chair.

"I wasn't going to say anything," Dorea sniffed.

The man chuckled rising from his seat in one smooth motion.

"Charlus Potter," he greeted holding out a hand.

"Harry...er, Harry Prewett, sir," said Harry shaking it.

"A Prewett, eh? You have the look of young Gregorius Prewett,"

"Er...yes," said Harry lamely running a hand through his hair.

"Stop it, Charlus!" Violet scolded.

"Stop what?"

"Don't play innocent, I know full well you were building up to an extra-strength cross examination,"

"I would never," said Charlus smoothly sitting back down.

A house elf, female this time, with a kerchief tied around her head popped in and set an extra place at the table.

Dorea scowled.

"Interfering busybody,"

"Now, Dorea, Frannie was just trying to be helpful. Sit down, Harry, you must be half-starved,"

"Yes, before the food goes cold," Dorea agreed.

Harry spooned a large helping of seafood risotto onto his plate and tried to maintain a delicate balance between manners and hunger as the adults talked around him.

"Poor child looks dreadfully underfed," commented Dorea shaking her head and scowling.

"I've no doubt he'll fill out with a summer's worth of your cooking in his stomach, darling," Charlus said sipping his wine.

"Nevermind that right now," Violet said prodding her fork in her in-laws' general direction, "Listen closely because after tonight we're never going to speak of it again,"

"I'm quite intrigued, Violet, do tell,"

"Harry is a time traveler,"

Dorea gasped and narrowed her eyes at Harry who tried not to fidget as he politely pretended not to be interested.

"Indeed?" said Charlus raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, accidentally of course,"

"Of course,"

"Suffice it to say, he was a Potter, now he's a Prewett and we're taking him in," said Violet firmly.

"Hn, how to explain...perhaps, a prolonged custody battle after Gregorius' untimely demise?"

"Yes, that's perfect, Charlus, would you?"

"I'll start laying the paper trail tomorrow, first thing," Charlus promised.

"Time travel," said Dorea shaking her head, "We've had a few of those in our day, all executed of course, selfish bastards, the Blacks,"

"Er...yes, well Harry's travelling was ruled accidental so there's no worry of that," Violet said taking a delicate bite of her own meal.

"How are you finding the risotto, Harry?" asked Dorea.

"It's excellent Mrs. Potter,"

"Nonsense, call me Aunt Dorea, please, Mrs. Potter makes me feel old and matronly,"

"Which makes me Uncle Charlus, I get quite enough Mr. Potter-ing at work, besides, you're family,"

"Of course, sir...er...Uncle Charlus," Harry agreed with a small smile.

Charlus smiled back and picked up his wine once more content to lounge and watch the proceedings.

"So Harry, tell us a bit about yourself," Dorea insisted, serving up some salad onto his plate without bothering to ask permission.

Clearly she, like Mrs. Weasley, thought he needed fattening up, as she always did after his return to civilization after his weeks in captivity at the Dursleys.

"Er...well, I like Quidditch," Harry said, it seemed a safe enough topic.

"Really, you and James should get on well then," Dorea said.

"That boy, if he put as much effort into his studies as he did in his Quidditch he'd be Head Boy for sure," Violet lamented.

"James is a Chaser on the Gryffindor Team, I'll be very surprised if he doesn't make Captain in a year or so," Dorea added.

"What position do you play?"

"I'm a Seeker," Harry said.

"Got the build for it," Charlus put in.

"Yes, very light," Dorea agreed and with a frown began buttering him a piece of bread.

"Does me no good during foul weather though," Harry said shaking his head.

"Nothing to keep the wind from blowing you every which way," Violet agreed, "You get the same problem with owls,"

"Owls?" queried Harry glad to change the topic.

"Oh, yes, I breed and train them you know, anyway the problem with a good and fast little owl is that he'll be blown to hell and back in bad weather, but no everyone wants to save space and time so they go with a smaller owl and complain constantly when they get blown off course and lose days," Violet said gesticulating with her fork.

"Wow, you breed and train owls, that is so cool," Harry gushed.

"We'll have to get you a good one for school, Merlin knows James never writes..." Violet started, "Are you alright dear?"

Harry smiled weakly and shook his head.

"Nothing, just thinking about my owl...back home, Hedwig,"

"Oh..."

His vision blurred slightly and he quickly blinked it back to normal.

"It's just, Hedwig was my first real birthday gift, and she was a good friend,"

And now she was gone.

They'd shared confinement at the Dursleys, and she always came to his window in Gryffindor Tower to keep him company on the long nights when he couldn't sleep. Now, he would never see her again. Would she understand? Ron and Hermione would take care of her, of course but...oh Merlin...

Harry must have gone pale or exhibited some other sign of distress because Violet loudly proclaimed that she was quite full, even though she'd only gotten a few bites in, in between the chit chat, and insisted Harry let her show him to his new room, as he was looking most peaky, no doubt from all that time travel, and needed to get some rest.

She led him out into the hall.

"Save me a plate Dorea, poor lad, it's all catching up to him," she murmured into the dining room before calling on Fenn.

Fenn led them up a winding flight of stairs and down a long hall with a line of windows on one wall and a line of doors on the other.

Harry barely paid attention to where he was being led but once Violet and Fenn had bid him a good night he was grateful for the chance to kick off his shoes and flop face down into the large rather plush bed that was tucked into a nook against the far wall.

Ron and Hermione, it hadn't occurred to him until just now that he'd never see them again, nor any of his other friends or the rest of the Weasley Clan. Well that wasn't strictly true, he'd see them as small children who wouldn't even know who he was or would see him as some creepy old coot.

Then there was his Dad, Mum, and Remus and Sirius...Merlin, Wormtail!

Harry shook his head and tugged on his hair brutally. What was he going to do? He was going to have to live in the same dorm as that rat bastard traitor, not to mention his father and godfather and ex-professor who he would have only just met...

"Well, this is a right mess you've gotten yourself into this time, Potter," Harry muttered to himself.

"Shit, can't do that anymore, Prewett, Prewett, Prewett...I need to visit Snape, I'll bet he can make it sound disdainful...Merlin, Snape!"

Harry groaned, he was going to have class with Snape, only as a student now instead of a teacher.

"Just don't think about it, Pot-Bloody Hell! Prewett!"

Harry sighed and stared blankly up at the ceiling. Tears started leaking out the corners of his eyes.

"Shit...shit! Shit! Shit!" he swore emphatically before breaking down into full on sobs, muffled with his pillow with the skill and ease of long practice, and eventually crying himself to sleep.

* * *

**AN:** There we go some nice healthy emotional vulnerability from Harry, and we get to meet the Potters who seem like a very nice bunch for people so blatantly rich and pureblooded. Did anyone catch Charlus' profession? I only gave out hints, so honorable mention in the next chapter for those who guess correctly! As always please review and let me know what you think and what you'd like to see, I'm always looking for ways to improve! Until next time!


	4. Chapter 4: Out of the Frying Pan

**Harry Prewett and the Case of Inadvertent Illegal Time Travel**

**Chapter Four: Out of the Frying Pan and Into the Fire**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter.

**Author's Note**: Sorry it took so long to update, I didn't know how to write the scene and to be perfectly honest the following is not at all what I had in mind, so hope it fits. First of all I would like to thank everyone who read, reviewed, alerted, and/or favourited the story! Secondly, Congratulations to Alec McDowell, a loyal reviewer, you are correct Charlus Potter is a lawyer aka solicitor, have this fictional cookie of chocolaty chipish delight as your prize! Now, on with the story!

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When Harry woke the unfamiliar clock on the unfamiliar bedside table informed him it was six thirty in the morning and the weak sunlight that had managed to filter through the early morning cloud cover illuminated the unfamiliar room.

Harry blinked at all the unfamiliarity.

"What the..."

It took a second for the memories of the day before to come flooding back. Cleaning Grimmauld, talking with Sirius, worrying about his trial, passing out, Office of Time Travel, Collette, Aunt Violet...

Harry rolled over and found his glasses, none the worse for being slept on. Harry shook his head, he should have just caved and bought magical glasses years ago it would have saved him a whole hell of a lot of trouble. Hermione had been right, as always.

Harry scrubbed at his face as this thought sent fresh pangs of loss through him and he threatened to start crying again.

"Pull yourself together," he muttered to himself, "Look on the bright side, at least now you know you're not expelled, and you don't have to go to that bloody trial,"

Looking for something to distract himself with Harry examined the room that would be his so long as he remained with the Potters.

The carpet was plush and a sort of greenish beige color the walls were a light blue and the bedspread was navy with a bit of green along the edge and rumpled from being slept in. There was a dresser and a huge desk that had the faintly worn look of something pulled out of storage and quickly polished up. There were also two doors. Upon examination, one led into the hall and the other led to a roomy walk in closet with a few things that must belong to his father hanging there.

With the room thus thoroughly explored Harry became aware of a burning need to pee. So shucking out of his rumpled jacket and leaving it hanging over the end of the bed Harry padded out into the hall in search of a bathroom.

Unable to see any obvious bathroom looking doors Harry began opening doors along the hall and found an empty guest room room, James' room, another guest room, this one looking much more lived in, a rec room and finally after that a bathroom. He found a brand new toothbrush and a bottle of the tooth cleaning potion wizards favoured in the drawers under the double sink and fresh towels in the cupboard and so after relieving himself he brushed his teeth, making a mental note to get some proper toothpaste as soon as he had the opportunity, and took a hot shower.

Feeling much more human Harry padded back to his room, changed into some fresh clothes and retraced the route from his room to the kitchen with only minor difficulties.

The kitchen and dining room were empty though there were places set for four people at the table. Harry bit his lip as his stomach reminded him he was famished. Would the Potters mind him using their kitchen? Would it be more polite to wait until someone arrived downstairs?

Harry's stomach burbled pitifully.

There was no use for it he was too bloody hungry to wait for the Potters, he'd make them all breakfast and hopefully that would make up for the rudeness of commandeering their kitchen.

Thus decided, he began raiding the cold box and pantry.

In a few minutes the kitchen was in controlled chaos with bacon sizzling in one pan, pancakes in another and a bowl of whipped eggs waiting for their turn on the heat. Harry moved around the kitchen getting lost in the familiar rhythm of chopping, mixing and frying, nibbling on a slice of buttered toast to keep his stomach's complaints under control.

"What are you doing?"

Harry jumped slightly and whipped around to find that Aunt Dorea was standing there in her pale blue silk dressing gown with her arms crossed looking annoyed as she surveyed the kitchen.

"Er...making breakfast?" Harry said meekly offering up a plate of silver dollar pancakes to show her.

"Hn," grunted Dorea.

Harry was so surprised to hear the familiar sound come out of a throat not his own he did a quick double take.

"What?" his aunt demanded putting her hands on her hips.

"I'm sorry...it's just, do I really sound _that_ condescending when I make that noise?"

"What noise?"

"Hn," Harry grunted, rolling his eyes.

Dorea let out a surprised bark of laughter before covering her mouth with her hand.

"Not bad," she managed fighting a smile.

"So am I forgiven?" asked Harry.

"For what?"

"Making breakfast,"

"Ah, yes," said Dorea surveying the spread critically, "Perhaps,"

Harry raised an eyebrow but ceded command of the kitchen to his aunt letting her poke and prod at his finished and nearly finished breakfast dishes seemingly at random.

"Can I ask what you're looking for?"

"You just did so obviously you can, however, if you meant to say may I ask what you are looking for, you may but I won't answer you until I'm good and ready,"

Harry watched, feeling a strange mixture of amused, exasperated and tolerant, as Dorea took a clean steak knife and wielded it with exacting and frankly terrifying precision to slice a thin bit of sausage from one of the finished links and settle it on a square of pancake, she then dipped the bite sized piece in the warm maple syrup and delicately ate it. She chewed thoughtfully for a moment before sighing in disappointment.

"What?" asked Harry, "Is something wrong? Gods, this is so embarrassing, I haven't screwed up a breakfast since I was seven years old, maybe I'm just out of practice..."

"Harry," said Dorea holding up a hand to silence him, "The food is excellent, carefully prepared and cooked to perfection,"

"Oookay...then why do you look like someone killed your puppy, like _I _killed your puppy, repeatedly...with stabbing tools,"

"Because, you cook like a House Elf!"

Harry took a careful step away from his aunt's sudden outburst.

She slammed the fork down on the island.

"I know it's not fair to you Harry, but when I saw you...and then the noise, but there's _nothing_ in your food!"

To demonstrate the appropriate gravity of this offence apparently she picked up the plate of pancakes and threw them on the floor shattering the plain porcelain tray they'd been sitting on and covering the floor with shards of porcelain and abused pancakes.

Harry skittered away from the mess with the deftness of long practice and pressed himself against the wall unaware that he was trying to make himself smaller.

Dorea groaned in frustration dropping her head in her hands and closing her eyes tightly. She'd so hoped that finally there would be someone in this house who could understand her, who was like her, who could cook with skill and spice turning the chore of making a meal into a sensuous work of art. Harry had seemed so...she made a frustrated noise in the back of her throat, not quite a growl. She'd expected too much of him and he probably thought she was a crazy person tossing perfectly good dishes and food around.

Dorea sighed when she looked at the mess she'd made of the floor. There was a soft pop.

"Get out of my kitchen, Frannie!" she snapped.

There was another soft pop.

Satisfied that there would be no more interference Dorea opened her eyes and raised her head to apologize to her nephew for her outburst, sometimes there was more of the Blacks in her than she might like.

Her eyes narrowed as she took in the picture Harry presented.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

Dorea raised her hand and Harry fell silent.

Harry was pressed flat against the wall farthest from her and closest to the door and though his eyes were unnaturally wide and his freckles stood out in his suddenly starkly pale face, his features were completely expressionless. She had seen this mask before, she knew it intimately, all the Black children did. Her brother Marius, her nephew Alphard, her great nephew, James' friend Sirius, and now Harry. Someone had abused this child, screamed at him, thrown things, and starved him of both food and love. There were scars on his soul inflicted by the very people who should have cherished him the most. He didn't seem to know what to make of her piercing stare and she wondered absently if he knew he was close to biting through his lip.

Moving slowly as if with a spooked horse she reached out and grabbed the first dish her hand encountered. She then gathered the hem of her dressing gown to her knees revealing long pale legs and delicately turned ankles as she deftly picked her way through the broken porcelain and handed him the platter of sausages.

Harry stared at the sausages and then stared at her, looking confused.

"Well don't just stand there, Harry, toss the plate, shatter it into a million pieces,"

"But-"

"Right now," she ordered.

Harry threw the plate into the mess on the kitchen floor, not without force, and the platter holding the sausages became indistinguishable from the platter holding the pancakes, both of them being comprised of little white chips scattered all over the tile floor.

Dorea hadn't thought it was possible for his eyes to get any wider but when he turned to look at her his eyes were definitely wider.

"I can't believe I just did that..." he muttered to himself sounding horrified, "I'm so sorry, I'll just clean this up and get out..."

Dorea held up a hand and he fell silent.

"Sweet Merlin, you are well trained," she said shaking her head, "You, my dear nephew, are not going anywhere,"

Harry gulped.

Dorea drew her wand out of the pocket of her dressing gown and flicked it negligently. The shards of sharp porcelain and bits of damaged food were swept away and the kitchen was once again pristine, empty of all the food Harry had prepared. Harry's aunt rolled up her silk sleeves and pinned her mass of wildly curling hair to the top of her head with an ease Hermione would have envied. Then she flashed Harry a wicked smile.

"If you're going to be cooking in my kitchen, you will learn to do it right, _accio_, put that on,"

Obediently Harry tied the apron on watching as Dorea did the same before sticking her wand in the pocket.

"Lesson number one: food needs personality,"

Harry said nothing but watched her with unblinking eyes his fear melting into interest as if it had never been.

"Why?" he blurted before flushing at the question.

"Because a meal, cooking a meal is about sharing love and life with your friends and family,"

Harry looked confused.

"Alright, let me try another tack, think of the best meal you've ever had,"

She gave him a few minutes to think.

"Got one?"

"Yeah,"

"What was it?"

"My very first birthday cake, or at least the first one I remember getting," Harry amended thinking of the pictures of him and his mum and dad and Sirius and Remus all covered in coral coloured frosting that Remus had told Harry was mango flavoured because Lily hadn't believed that giving her baby chocolate at such a tender age was a good idea.

"Who made it for you?"

"A friend of my parents,"

"Why did it taste so good?"

Harry thought about this but he couldn't answer, the cake had been heavy and crumbly, like all of Hagrid's cooking, though thankfully not as heavy as his infamous Rock Cakes, and the icing had been too sweet and Hagrid had sat on it at some point. Harry imagined it might have been because he was starving, but his Aunt Petunia's casserole was always awful no matter how many days he'd gone without a proper meal, or any meal.

"I don't know," he finally answered his brow furrowed.

Dorea smiled.

"The secret ingredient, the one that makes the meal, is love, as corny as that sounds. You give a part of yourself up to the people you cook for because you love them and it makes spaghetti and meatballs or soup and sandwiches into a feast fit for a king. House Elves, are devoted to their masters they would give anything for us do anything for our happiness or because we asked it of them but that is part of what they are, they don't have the necessary freedom to feel real love for us and they don't want it, which is why I will never allow one to cook for the family while I'm able and why they are not allowed to set one foot past the threshold while I occupy the kitchen,"

"Oh," said Harry in a small voice.

"So, let's get started, hand me those eggs there and I'll teach you how to make a decent omelette,"

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**AN:** Was it okay? *Bites lip anxiously* I'm worried that I've done a 180 with Dorea's character as compared to the last chapter, but I like this scene because it takes into account Harry's abuse with the Dursleys without any of the jibbering I so despise, and it gives Harry and Dorea something to bond over. The way I see it Violet and Charlus are charming personable people by nature (that's where James gets it from) whereas Harry and Dorea are more closed off and it takes them more effort to form emotional attachments especially since Harry is famous and Dorea scares people. Anywhoo that's my excuse for the chapter that appeared out of nowhere, please inform me if it is complete drivel!

As always, please review! Thanks for reading, I hope you all enjoyed it!


	5. Chapter 5: Familial Familiarity

**Harry Prewett and the Case of Inadvertent Illegal Time Travel**

**Chapter Five: Familial Familiarity**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter

**Author's Note:** Thanks to everyone who Reviewed, Alerted and Favorited, you guys are awesome sauce! Yes, I did just say/type that! On with the story...

* * *

Harry and Dorea had everything laid out nicely on the dining room table by the time Violet stumbled in around nine thirty wearing very figure flattering plum coloured silk pyjama bottoms and a lavender camisole, her long hair in a sleep mussed ponytail, and her eyes still half-lidded.

"Good morning Violet," said Dorea looking amused as she loaded up a plate.

"Dorea," she grunted reaching blindly for her teacup.

"Morning Aunt Violet,"

"Harry, did you sleep well?"

"Yeah, out like a light," Harry assured her taking a sip of his coffee.

Violet made a polite response and reached for one of the mini-omelettes in the nearest tray. She bit in and made a surprised noise.

"Dorea, these are especially delicious, did you change your recipe?" asked Violet slurping a bit on her tea before taking another delicate bite.

"Harry made them," said Dorea proudly.

Harry ducked his head, shoving his hands in his pockets and smiling shyly, "After about a billion batches gone wrong,"

Violet's eyes went wide and she adopted a frankly impressed look.

"She let you in the kitchen?"

"Well, I let myself in, but apparently I've been doing it all wrong, so Aunt Dorea's going to teach me how to cook properly,"

"Yes, but...she let you stay in the kitchen, you haven't even been poisoned or hexed or anything,"

"Really Violet, I'm not that bad,"

"Yes, you really are, Blacks are so possessive,"

"Yes, Aunt Dorea really let me in the kitchen without maiming or threatening and graciously allowed the best of my efforts to serve as breakfast," Harry cut in rolling his eyes slightly.

"You're making up a plate for Charlus?"

"Yes,"

"Send more little omelettes," Violet advised before tucking into her second with gusto.

"Uncle Charlus isn't coming down for breakfast?"

"That man gets up at 5:30 in the morning almost every morning to open the offices and review files make sure things are running smoothly before he gets too embroiled in one particular case, I always make him up a plate, sometimes I make breakfast for the entire office," Dorea explained.

"At Christmas she barely ever leaves the kitchen during the day, turning out mass amounts of food by special order, and then she spends all night schmoozing wealthy clients and pureblood socialites with Charlus at some gala or another snacking on platters that she'd made just that afternoon,"

"Those things are as dull as dishwater, the least I can do is enjoy my hors d'oeuvres," sniffed Dorea.

"She's the Wizarding World's best kept secret," Violet said looking proud.

"That is kind of awesome," Harry said with a grin.

"Only kind of?" asked Dorea coyly.

"I'm not answering that on the grounds you might get a big head," Harry teased.

Dorea laughed and gave him a playful swat that he had plenty of time to avoid.

"Frannie!" she called.

There was a pop and an elf with a nose shaped like half a biscotti and abnormally large feet appeared.

"Mistress is having the Master's breakfast for Frannie?" peeped the elf in her cheery birdlike voice.

"Yes, there you go Frannie, thank you,"

"Mistress is being welcome," said Frannie with a short bow before popping away with the food in hand.

The family then tucked into breakfast with the earnest gusto of hungry people, only to be interrupted a moment later by the familiar tap, tap, tap of an owl at the window.

Harry plucked a smallish piece of bacon from the platter and without being asked rose and went to the window. Once Harry got the window open one of the many non-descript brown Hogwarts owls landed on the sill and held out its leg. Harry untied the familiar thick envelope addressed in loopy green handwriting from the owl's leg and held out the bit of bacon.

The owl gave an excited hoot and plucked it neatly from Harry's fingers.

"There should be some water up in the owlry, feel free to have a bit of a rest before you head out," Harry told it.

The owl hooted in response and flew away whether up to the owlry or to a quiet tree to enjoy his snack before heading back to Hogwarts Harry couldn't have guessed. He shut the window and returned to his seat with the letter.

"About time!" Violet declared, "I was expecting their owl ages ago,"

"Hn, the old coot must not have his fingers in any of the pies in the Department of Mysteries," Dorea said.

"Oh stop it Dorea, there is nothing wrong with being well-connected as you well know,"

"Power corrupts and the more of it you have the more corrupted you get, as _you_ well know,"

"The letter, for anyone who's interested reads -" Harry said interrupting the beginning what appeared to be a long standing argument between the two women.

_Dear Mr. Prewett,_

_In light of recent circumstances it is my pleasure to inform you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry as a transfer student from the Penruffle School. Your transcripts are all in order and you can expect to join Gryffindor house this coming year. Please inform your current guardian that your tuition for the next four years of study has been completely covered by a Ministry Scholarship. Please find enclosed a letter from your Head of House and a list of the necessary books and equipment._

_Yours Sincerely_

_Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress_

"What are you taking for electives?" asked Violet.

"Divination and Care of Magical Creatures,"

"Divination," sneered Dorea contemptuously.

"Now Dorea, don't be mean,"

"It's alright Aunt Violet, at my old school the professor that taught it was a hack and it was pretty much a slacker course, I should have taken Muggle Studies or Magical Music or something, anything else," Harry shuddered.

"Muggle Studies, Hn,"

"What did you want to do after Hogwarts?" asked Violet.

"I was thinking of being an Auror, I know there'll be demand in the field for the next few years and my best subject is Defence, I need to get my Potions marks up this year though apparently," said Harry shaking his head.

"How can you not do well in Potions? You can cook, Potions isn't that much different if you know your ingredients," Dorea said frowning.

"Really?"

"Yes, I have a book you can have with hundreds of tables of different ingredients and their properties that should help,"

"Thanks, mostly I'm not a bad Potions student, I follow the directions in the book fine and I can identify a good number of them based on taste and smell, but my professor really didn't like me and of course I had to worry about sabotage from the Slytherins,"

"Sabotage," said Violet frowning.

"Yeah, I said no to a Malfoy, he took it badly," said Harry smirking slightly.

Dorea laughed wickedly and even Violet couldn't hold in a small triumphant smile.

"Malfoy's are by their nature, obsessive and cursed with an overdeveloped sense of their own importance. Abraxus for example is not very well-liked but he has almost as extensive a network of connections as Professor Dumbledore," Violet said taking a delicate bite out of a blueberry breakfast tart.

"They are also raised from birth to be ruthless, I have a book on wards and defensive enchantments I have a feeling you'll get good use out of as well," Dorea said slyly gesturing with her fork.

"Speaking of which, since we're going to be out and about today buying Harry's books and things is there anything you'd like me to pick up?"

"That won't be necessary Violet as I'm coming with you," she said.

Violet bit her lip, and Harry wondered what the problem with that was.

"Dorea we're going to be shopping in muggle London for half the day,"

"I had assumed as much Violet, I'd thank you not to treat me like an imbecile,"

"Darling, you don't like muggles," Violet pointed out gently.

Dorea assumed the pained expression of an innately stubborn and prideful person preparing to admit to a fault.

"I haven't ever even met a muggle and apparently you cannot make judgements about things you have never tried,"

Violet managed to reign in her urge to giggle but the spasmodic twitching of her cheek was so obvious that it didn't really make a difference.

"That's very mature of you," she said once she managed to get herself under control.

Harry carefully hid his blossoming grin behind his coffee mug as Dorea gave a long suffering sigh. She sounded a bit like a precocious young child coming around to admitting she was hungry after throwing a screaming crying fit about being made to eat dinner.

"Well if we're going to get anything done today we'd best be off and about it," Violet said briskly draining the last of her tea and pulling her wand out of her pants' pocket.

"If you're cleaning up, I'll go get dressed," Dorea said standing and stretching before leaving the room.

"Are you done, Harry?" she asked indicating his mostly empty plate.

"Oh, yeah," he said shrugging and moving to start clearing the table.

"No, leave it there," Violet instructed and with a few economic flicks of her wand the plates and utensils were stacked neatly.

Another loose swish sent them over to the sideboard where they promptly disappeared.

"Cool," Harry said grinning.

Violet smiled back.

"It's a modern variation on the Charms used for the tables at Hogwarts, the House Elves all adore it since it means we don't have to fetch and carry the dishes ourselves, the dears. We'll aim to leave in a half-hour so you have a bit of time to get some exploring in. If you get lost just call for Fenn," she said before turning and moving up a narrow flight of stairs Harry hadn't noticed before.

Since Aunt Violet's advice was right in line with Harry's own naturally born curiosity he left the dining room and turned left down a previously unexplored hall.

The Potter Manor was not meant for claustrophobic people or people who were easily confused as the large and tastefully luxurious rooms made for long narrow corridors lit by warm yellow witchlights, cramped staircases tucked into dark corners and a twisty maze of doors and doorways. Most of the doors were open and the rooms behind them were inviting. There was a two story private library that Hermione would have drooled over, a solarium that overlooked a well landscaped gravel path leading to a set of greenhouses that would have had Neville swooning with delight, a locked door that Harry suspected led to Dorea's private potions lab, and finally a casual living room that managed to be exactly what Harry had always imagined a living room should look like minus the television.

The furniture was well kept but comfortably well-used and upholstered in muted browns, blues and greens. There were three cats dozing in sunny spots and a wealth of fuzzy throw blankets neatly draped over the arms of the chairs and couches. A big fireplace dominated one wall above the mantle was a large portrait of a family smiling and laughing in front of a big tree. In the portrait Dorea and Charlus kissed soundly while a rough looking young man who looked a lot like Charlus save for his hair which was wild and stuck up at odd angles as if he'd simply rolled out of bed and left it swinging a boy of about eight with an equally gravity defying crop of jet black hair around happily.

Harry felt a familiar pang of longing in his chest. More than anything else in the world Harry, who had never known the love of his family, wished that he could belong in that portrait. Ron really didn't know how lucky he had it.

"Mrow!" came the feline demand as the lithe black creature wound itself around Harry's legs.

Harry regarded it warily. He did not have good experiences with cats, but it had noticed his attention on it and reared up on its hind legs to paw at him, meowing bossily.

"Alright, alright, don't get your fur in a bunch," he muttered lifting her carefully into his arms.

"My fur is not in a bunch," snapped a female voice.

Harry started.

"You can talk?"

"Of course I can talk, foolish male, stop poking your fingers into my ribs,"

Harry adjusted his grip on the cat automatically.

"I'm sorry it's just a bit of a shock, the cats I'm used to dealing with can't talk," Harry said apologetically.

"Of course they can talk, you just can't understand them, you're not their human, you're mine," she said looking up at him with an unsettling flat feline stare.

Her eyes were green. Their eyes matched, and if he hadn't been through a complete work over as far as his appearance was concerned they would have the same colour hair. Harry couldn't stop the little half-smile that quirked his mouth.

"So you don't talk like this to everyone?"

"I'm not the problem, I talk like this all the time, but a witch may only understand his or her familiar,"

Harry gave a quick mental apology to Hermione, Filch and Mrs. Figg who he'd always assumed were just seriously whacked creepy cat loving people.

"So you're my familiar, now are you?" said Harry amused as he settled them into one of the squashy armchairs.

"Mmmhmm," purred the cat as he scratched her behind the ears, "And you're mine,"

"But I already have a familiar, Hedwig," Harry protested.

"Except that she's gone, Harry-mine, and I am here,"

Who could argue with depressingly accurate logic like that? Still he continued to stroke her and soon they were both lulled into a kind of lethargic stupor.

"So Miss. Disdain finally graces someone with her tolerance, I never thought I'd see the day,"

"The werewolf male is tolerable," commented the cat hopping off Harry's chest as he sat up and settling herself on the back of couch with a disgruntled mew at having her encroaching nap disturbed and delayed.

Aunt Violet had showered and changed into a short sleeved ivory blouse tucked into a beige silk pencil skirt that started at her ribs and ended a few inches above her knees revealing long well muscled legs and small shapely feet in flirty peep toe high heels. Topped off with a sleeveless robe in a pale lavender colour and her long red hair hanging mostly loose Harry was once again struck by how beautiful she was.

If Violet was ready to be the poster witch for functional femininity for the light minded women of the wizarding world, Dorea was ready to snap up the dark minded ones. Her dark hair was still piled atop her head but she'd traded in her sleepwear for a clingy black dress with a modest neckline, strappy green high heeled sandals and what looked like a green silk shawl with holes for arms that she was wrapping around her middle and tying off at her hip.

Harry took note of the fact that the loose free floating silk concealed the leather shoulder rig he'd caught a glimpse of while still leaving Dorea's wand accessible and Violet's hair clip was serving double duty as a wand holster. Anyone passing them in the street might think they were rich trophy wives without much sense. They would be very wrong.

"Are we going straight to Diagon Alley or do we have to stop at a photo shoot?" Harry asked cheekily.

Violet blushed.

"Flattery will get you everywhere," Dorea smirked.

"Really, does that mean we don't have to floo?"

"Smart ass," Dorea laughed swatting him lazily upside the head.

"We aren't using floo, I hate floo," Violet declared with vehemence.

"Me too, I always fall out of the fireplace," Harry said shaking his head.

"So we're apparating then are we?" asked Dorea.

"Most definitely," Violet said with a brisk nod, "I brought you your shoes Harry," she added.

Harry slipped into the shoes quickly and then the three of them walked down the wide gravel drive to the edge of the wards Dorea and Violet pointing out certain noteable features of Lionsgate along the way, like the owlry tower that used to house a cursed woman and the start of the trail in the small wood behind the estate that was apparently an offshoot from the Black Forest in Albania, brought to England by Rupert Potter when he retired from vampire hunting in 1836.

They reached the end of the drive and Harry casually linked his arm with Violet's and they disappeared with a short snap.

* * *

**AN:** Sorry about the long wait folks. My computer doesn't like the site maintenence and I've been unable to post anything at home. Here's hoping the absence made your hearts grow fonder.

I know I promised action a bazillion years ago and I promise it's coming! The same goes for the appearence of the Marauders themselves.

With the addition of appropriately aged males to the story coming up it's time for me to make a decision on the pairing...but I really can't. So, I plead for your opinions, send me a review or PM and convince me that your favorite male MWPP Era character is the one for Harry, defend/promote your choice with your fabulous arguments and justifications!

Also, should Harry work on becoming an animagus by himself or wait to be invited to join the Marauders?

Please review and let me know what you think! I'm always happy to hear from you guys even if it's only a few words.

Until next time!


	6. Chapter 6: The Dangers of Shopping

**Harry Prewett and the Case of Inadvertent Illegal Time Travel**

**Chapter Six: The Dangers of Shopping**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter

**Author's Note: **First off I'd just like to thank every one who Reviewed, Alerted or Favorited, you guys are all superfreakingawesome! Now on to the important parts...

* * *

The three of them appeared in the alley behind the Leakey Cauldron with a sharp double crack. Since Violet's wand was doubling as a hair pin and Harry didn't have one yet Dorea took out her wand and tapped the appropriate stone to allow them access to the shopping district hidden in plain sight.

Harry grinned happily as the bricks shifted into the archway that revealed the familiar rows of shops and bustling of the crowd. Of course the crowds were quite frankly ridiculous, it was after all the summer rush, there were students everywhere mobbing friends, trying to carry mass amounts of books, quills and parchment and the normal gathering of eleven year old boys and other Quidditch enthusiasts outside the window of Quality Quidditch Supplies.

"Come on, we're not going to get anything done just standing here," Dorea said looking a bit like a cross between a dragon and a drill sergeant as she marched towards the nearest shop which happened to be Madam Malkins.

"Don't we have to go to the bank?" asked Harry as he and Violet tried to keep up.

"Oh no, we have accounts with most of the stores in Diagon Alley, and I keep some muggle money in my purse, we'll be fine to skip those lines today,"

"What do you mean you have an account with the stores?" asked Harry.

"Well, as a family that has been customers since the Alley opened who are also known to have er...a rather comfortable financial status, we are allowed to simply sign off our purchases and the shopkeepers get the money transferred directly into their Vault from the bank at the end of the work week,"

"Oh, so you have a tab," said Harry with a raised eyebrow.

"Precisely," laughed Violet.

"Are you coming? Or is the new plan to linger in the street all day?" demanded Dorea from the doorway of the robe shop scowling and tapping her foot impatiently.

Harry rolled his eyes but jogged the rest of the way up to the store. A plump young witch with curly blond hair and a nice smile was waiting with Dorea.

"Felicia, this is my nephew Harry, he needs one of everything," Dorea said.

Harry raised an eyebrow and resisted the urge to salute at Dorea's militant tone of voice. Instead he turned and tried to smile charmingly at the witch.

"I'm kind of new at this, so go easy on me alright?"

A very female smile crossed Felicia's face.

"Sorry Mr. Charming Pants, not going to happen, but you'll love me for it one day," she said dragging him into a private dressing area he'd never known existed.

Bemusedly Harry mounted the small stool there and allowed the magical measuring tape to slither all over his body. Felicia was as brisk and impersonal and Harry had a feeling that Collette would have approved at the swift way she pinned and hemmed a set of Gryffindor robes for him all the while directing the stack of white button downs, striped ties and black trousers. He had just enough time to notice that he still wasn't used to his new reflection and that the Hogwarts robes hadn't really changed in twenty years.

Then he was instructed to put his arms out at the side and stand like that. Stand like that he did for about a half an hour while Felicia whisked robe after, bloody robe over his shoulders, it got the yea or nay from the three women in the room and then was either hemmed or discarded. For someone who hadn't ever owned robes beyond his one pair of dress robes and the ones he had for school he was a little bit alarmed at the amount of money Dorea and Violet were spending on him to get one in what seemed like every single style and colour. By the end of it though he was way too tired to muster up even a shred of protest.

Moving up towards the cash Felicia gave him a sympathetic 'Atta Boy pat on the back and then began ringing up and bagging their purchases. Violet shrunk them and put them into one smaller bag to make it manageable to carry and handed it to Harry. The Felicia handed Dorea a small white card with a lump in the bottom right corner. Dorea scribbled the final total, a number, and her signature and then pressed a ring Harry hadn't noticed she'd been wearing into the lump. The ring left the perfect impression of a wand and a sword crossed across a sun.

Violet put a hand on his shoulder and held out the small bag full of shrunken robes. He smiled tiredly and accepted the bag before following the two women out of the shop.

The same thing happened in the other shops, but Harry knew what kind of pace to expect from Dorea now so if he wanted something in addition to what she'd picked out he slipped it into the pile without comment and tried to keep up. Now he understood why normal guys didn't like shopping, they probably went with crazy women.

Dorea made a couple of short detours to the smaller apothecaries and Harry decided knowing her profession he didn't want to know what she was picking up.

The one place he'd put his foot down and said they absolutely had to slow down and let him make the decision was in the trunk shop where he'd spent a good twenty minutes getting fitted for a shoulder rig like Dorea's and another holster he could fasten to the waist band of his pants or pretty much any limb. The woman had tapped her foot impatiently the entire time her eyes following him like a hawk follows a mouse while Violet patiently flipped through a ten year old magazine in the waiting area.

Finally they came to the most important stop on the itinerary, Ollivander's. This was the stop Harry was most worried about. He knew his wand was here holly and phoenix feather, Voldemort's brother wand, but he didn't know if he should take it, if it would even have him or if it was destined for James and Lily's son. Of course Harry intended to make sure that Voldemort and whoever their son ended up being weren't in any way connected, he wasn't clear on how he was going to manage this but that was a problem for another day. If he took the wand, would that mean the future would be completely changed? And if he didn't, did that mean that everything he did here to change things was pointless? Harry bit his lip and tried to stave off the impending Thinking-About-Time-Travel headache by returning to the task at hand.

"Would you mind waiting for me here?" he asked.

If Ollivander did his little brother wand to Voldemort speech he didn't want either of his Aunts to know or worry about it, and besides which he'd always felt that receiving a wand was a private moment.

"Not at all Harry," Violet said.

Dorea opened her mouth to protest and without batting an eyelash Violet stood on her foot.

"Ow! Violet!"

"Go on Harry, we'll just sit by the fountain and let Dorea rest her feet,"

Harry waited until he was out of Dorea's earshot before chuckling. The wand shop was just as it had been in Harry's first year, filled with dust motes floating in the single ray of weak sunshine and with the hushed reverent air of an ancient library. The shelves were filled with boxes that didn't seem to be organized in any particular way and there was a small rickety chair and a small dusty front desk.

"Hello?" Harry called.

He knew Ollivander was in here somewhere, lurking and watching. Harry had the sneaking suspicion the old wand maker liked scaring the pants off of his customers and appearing mysterious and omniscient. So he waited patiently listening hard.

"I take it you are a young Mr. Prewett then?" said Ollivander emerging from the stacks and fixing him with a piercing silver stare.

Ollivander was just as Harry remembered him. It was as if the man was timeless, and Harry still thought he was creepy.

"Yes, sir, Harry Prewett,"

"Your father would be Gregorius Prewett then, yes, I can see him in you now. It seems like only yesterday he was in here buying his first wand, 13 ½ inches, poplar, with a dragon heartstring core. As I recall it was quite bendy, and excellent wand for working with and against powerful beasts, though I hear it didn't save him,"

"No sir,"

"You're rather too old for this to be your first one though, you're perhaps thirteen?"

"I just turned fifteen, sir, and yes my old wand got trampled when I was working with hippogriffs and with...everything I haven't had the time to replace it. My Aunt says you're the best wand maker bar none,"

"Flattery will get you everywhere Mr. Prewett. Very well, what was your first wand comprised of and where do your strengths in magic lay?"

"It was 12 ¾ inches, yew and phoenix feather," Harry lied, "And I'm best in defence but no slouch in Charms and Transfiguration either,"

Ollivander hmmed and nodded to himself. Pulling a few options off the walls closest to the cash and then disappearing deep into the stacks and appearing with a few more dustier boxes. There were six boxes in total.

"I would suspect the match for you Mr. Prewett is in one of these boxes. Try this one, 13 inches yew and dragon heartstring,"

Harry gave it a careful swish and flick, kicking up a whole mess load of dust motes but doing little else. Ollivander snatched it from his grasp and shoved another wand at him.

"12 ½ inches, ebony and phoenix feather,"

This was produced a few faint sparks but Harry could tell this wasn't the one and handed it back before Ollivander could actually snatch it out of his hands. Harry tried two more wands each with the same issue, almost but not quite right. Then Harry's hand closed around the familiar handle of his own wand, warmth spread up through his finger tips to the rest of his body and with a small smile and a swish of the wand a shower of gold and silver sparkles rained down glinting in the sunlight and disappearing before they hit the floor.

"There, I think we've found a match. That is a powerful wand Mr. Prewett, use it well and wisely," advised Ollivander as Harry paid the necessary five galleons and tucked it into the small of his back where he'd fastened his new holster on a slight angle.

Harry thanked Ollivander and then hurried out of the shop before the man could change his mind and start up with the doom and gloom prophecies.

"How did it go?" asked Violet.

"I got my old wand back," Harry said with a smile.

"That's wonderful," Violet said smiling happily.

"Alright, that's all we have for the Alley, let's get back into London so we can get the muggle part of this outing over with as quickly as possible," Dorea said.

"Are you always this uptight when you go shopping?" Harry asked.

"I don't like crowds, the faster we get out of here the better, if you ask me," Dorea said standing up.

"Dorea you didn't have to come if you didn't want to," Violet said gently linking an arm through hers and doing the same with Harry.

"I wanted to, I promise I'm not usually this jumpy in the Alley but it just feels like someone's watching us and it's making me a bit..."

"Cranky?" Violet suggested.

"Yeah, let's go with that,"

Harry glanced up and down the street, trying to spot who was watching them. Now that Dorea had said something Harry felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. He'd been in mortal danger enough times in his life to know the feeling. The wind picked up slightly carrying a chill in the air. Their arms were still linked.

"Apparate, right now," Harry ordered seriously.

"Harry -"

"Now!" he snapped.

He felt a slight push but it subsided quickly and they were still walking in Diagon Alley.

"I can't!" gasped Violet.

"Anti-apparation wards," Dorea said softly her face going pale.

"Right," said Harry nodding to himself, "Wands out, we're heading for the Leaky," he said drawing his own wand.

Dorea and Violet did the same and with a muttered word, Violet shrunk their heels into nothing and had her hair neatly braided and out of her face.

"Shouldn't we try to warn them something's wrong?" asked Violet as the three of them jogged as fast as they could through the crowds.

"They already know," Harry said pointing out nervous white faced looking people who blurred slightly as they tried to apparate and were turned back by the wards.

Somewhere in the crowd a little girl started crying.

"Attention: Please make your way to the nearest floo, there have been unauthorized anti-apparation wards erected around the Alley and the Auror corps in on its way, in the mean time return to your homes,"

The voice that boomed out across the Alley was very familiar and Harry wasn't surprised to find he recognized the forty-something wizard despite the fact that he had both eyes and legs and his face, while scarred, didn't look like someone with only the vaguest idea what a human face ought to look like had carved it. Mad-Eye Moody was standing on some shop keep's table with his wand at his throat dressed in his customary brown leather coat and glaring suspiciously at the crowds below.

Harry didn't relax per se but he feel some of the panic subside to manageable levels. Moody was pretty much the best Auror that ever lived, half the cells in Azkaban were filled because of him and he was loyal to Dumbledore and not above screwing the rules and doing what needed to be done. He was pretty much Harry's idol if you took away some of the scarring and rampant paranoia.

"Alright, you heard the man, let's get out of here before the bad guys arrive," Harry said moving towards Fortescue's.

Florian Fortescue the History buff that had helped Harry with his homework one year was standing in the doorway looking very pale and very young and herding people single file into the shop. Harry steered them that way. Too late, the sky had gone dark and was thick with roiling clouds. Then there was a flash and the Dark Mark bathed the street in an eerie green glow. People began screaming and panicking in earnest.

"Oh dear goddess," whispered Violet.

The air had turned frigid and Harry could see his own breath. He looked up. Sure enough, flanked by two humanoid figures on brooms were a lot of dementors about a hundred if he was guessing correctly.

"Shit!" Harry cursed as they began to descend and any semblance of order was lost as the fear and panic jacked up to new levels.

He didn't know if there were going to be more Death Eaters coming than the two sent to put up the wards and the Mark but he did know that the Dementors were bad enough and he had the means to help. He took a deep breath.

"You two get behind me!" barked Dorea before he could, "Expecto Patronum!"

A magnificent silvery eagle soared out of her wand and into the incoming cloud of Dementors. In the back of his mind he could hear his Mum start screaming but he shook his head and focused. He had found a family, a family that accepted him for what he was; he would never have to go back to the Dursley's again. He let the realization fill him with the same giddy happiness it had two years ago when for two blissful hours he'd though Sirius was going to be able to do the same.

"Expecto Patronum!" he bellowed.

Prongs leapt from his wand and charged the dementors head on flashing brightly as it drove them back. The dementors began shrieking with rage as they were forced away from their prey. Behind him he heard Violet muttering.

"EVERYONE WITH A CORPOREAL PATRONUS CAST IT NOW! EVERYONE ELSE GET TO THE FLOO, CHILDREN FIRST!" Violet ordered her magically magnified orders echoing of the stones of the Alley.

The panicking crowd seemed to pull itself together just a little and a few more silvery shapes joined Harry and Dorea's driving the dementors off.

"Get down!" shouted Harry tackling Violet to the ground as a jet of green light crashed into the ground where she'd just been standing like some kind of bizarre lightning.

Automatically Harry shot a stunning spell back the way the green light had come and the masked figure on the broom tumbled out of the air and hit the cobblestones not too far away with a sickening crack.

"I-incarcerous!" squeaked Violet her chains ensuring the Death Eater wouldn't be moving anytime soon.

Harry scanned the sky for the other Death Eater, and got clipped with a slashing curse as he found out the other Death Eater had already landed and had brought friends.

Before the Death Eater could catch him of guard again Harry rolled to one side got to his feet and moved toward the figure in black robes rather than away. A quick tripping jinx followed by a spell he'd learned from Neville had the Death Eater attached to the ground with the vines growing out of a planter in front of a shop. He then stunned and petrified the bastard for good measure and jogged back over to where Violet was standing with her wand in a white knuckled grip.

"Harry! Oh gods you're bleeding!"

"Aunt Violet, are you alright?"

"I'm fine, just bruises, what's going on?"

"Death Eaters, where's Aunt Dorea?"

"Slasio!" snarled a female voice to their left.

Harry looked up in time to watch the wand arm fall off Dorea's attacker.

"Harry look out!" shouted Violet.

Harry whipped around, "Bombarda!" he cried.

The Death Eater screamed as his ribs were broken and he was thrown back about twenty feet.

"Oh gods," Violet murmured.

"Are you two alright?" Dorea demanded, her hair was tangled her eyes wild and her dress slit up to mid-thigh on the one side, she was using her wand to hold her Patronus and had somehow acquired another with which to curse Death Eaters.

"Fine," Harry answered wiping the blood out of his eyes.

"Kid!" bellowed Moody as he elbowed his way through the crowd skidding to a stop beside them, "We need your Patronus up there, I'll cover you!"

Harry nodded as he watched the beads of sweat stream down Dorea's face.

"Expecto Patronum!" he screamed again at top volume.

It helped him concentrate.

The silver stag once again joined the fray, the other Patroni not having been able to do much more than hold them off. Harry couldn't really blame them, not everyone discovered their corporeal Patronus and their ability to ward off a hundred dementors at the same time.

This time when Prongs charged them the dementors flew higher shrieking and scattering as the Patroni chased them farther away. The sky lightened back to a sullen drizzly grey and people in the streets began to cheer.

Harry dropped his wand and in the sky the bright silver ball of light that was his Patronus dissipated. Not bothering to stand on ceremony Harry and Dorea plopped into heaps on the ground. Harry assumed the Death Eaters remaining had all seen their fellows captured and killed and had fled before the Aurors arrived. The multiple cracks and the sight and sound of Moody bellowing orders to a team of men and women in sturdy brown militant looking robes let Harry know the Aurors had arrived and probably managed to get the anti-apparation wards down. People began disapparating left right and centre fleeing with their families to anywhere else.

Violet flung her arms around Harry unexpectedly and cried a bit into his shoulder but he was way too wiped to anything but pat her back and let her.

Once Moody had the Aurors organized he returned to their little huddle on the ground.

"Anyone need a medi-witch?" he asked looking them over critically.

"No, thank you Alastor, just some rest and chocolate," Dorea answered wearily.

"You sure?" he asked looking pointedly as Harry.

Harry cast a quick aguamenti to wash his face.

"See? Just a graze," he said pushing his wet hair back from his face to show off the thin red line on his forehead.

Moody grunted. He turned to Dorea.

"You're Potter's missus, the one who can cook,"

Dorea nodded.

"You've got one talented kid here, ma'am, takes some guts to send those things packing, and I'm not just talking about the dementors," he said.

"Thanks," Harry said, "There's a trick to it, maybe I'll tell you some time,"

"Do that, Potter, I look forward to it," Moody said ruffling his hair with a grin that was more of a grimace.

"Prewett actually," Violet said sniffing, "He's my nephew,"

"Good sense runs in the family, then. Don't worry about the bastards that hit the dirt, we've got them in custody, you're safe enough," Moody said.

He didn't say goodbye, just grunted, nodded at each of them, and moved back to bellowing orders.

"Um excuse me?" said a tentative voice.

Harry, Dorea, and Violet all raised their heads to see Florian Fortescue standing in front of them. He was younger than Harry had thought. Maybe sixteen or just turned seventeen. He held out three of the most massive chocolate ice cream cones they'd ever seen.

"We saw what you did, to help everyone, and well," Florian shrugged, "Heroes deserve a reward," he said holding out the tray.

"Thanks, I'm Harry by the way,"

"Florian, good to meet you," he said shaking his hand with a grin.

"Kind of crappy circumstances, but same here,"

Dorea and Violet couldn't help it they started laughing. Florian raised an eyebrow.

"Ignore them, they're clearly insane," Harry said haughtily taking a delicate lick of his ice cream and feeling immediately better.

"Harry, darling, you've got a bit of blood right there," Dorea said as if it were spinach in his teeth.

All three of them started laughing at that comment and Harry felt the same giddy rush at the realization that once again he'd survived mortal danger that he was sure was causing most of the hilarity and couldn't stop his own laugh from burbling up and out of his chest, washing the last of the lingering cold chill of the dementors from his bones.

* * *

**AN**: See action and heroism!

Not sure if I should have made Harry the saviour of the day but he did do the exact same thing with less help when he was thirteen so I figured it was a realistic situation. Tell me if I'm wrong.

Due to popular vote and my own inclinations, Harry will work on his animagus form by himself rather that waiting on inclusion. For those of you interested in what his form might end up being I have a few ideas of my own but feel free to weigh in.

I've also had a question about Harry's status as a horcrux and his Voldie-Visions, to which I'll say as of now I'm inclined to keep him a Horcrux but I don't know if he'll recieve visions, as for the prophecy aspects I've got them covered and that's all I'm saying about that!

Please continue sending me your thoughts on pairings for Harry.

As always your reviews and comments always make me smile and give me the ideas and inspiration that push me forward!


	7. Chapter 7: How I Met My Father

**Harry Prewett and the Case of Inadvertent Illegal Time Travel**

**Chapter Seven: How I Met My Father**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter

**Author's Note:** Thanks to everyone who reviewed, alerted, and/or favourited, you guys rock my socks! Bit of a short chappie to follow, but I needed some breathing room to allieviate the awkwardness of the Harry/James meeting and the plot points to follow. Hopefully this interlude will make the next be seem more natural! Now enough with my babbling and go forth and read!

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Since, among other things, Harry really couldn't walk around in the same underwear for another couple of days, before going home Violet dragged him and Dorea down the street from the Leaky Cauldron where there was a department store and they picked up a few essentials. Dorea finally got her first experience with muggles and found that she couldn't really dislike them when the nice old lady that had helped a red faced Harry pick out his underwear had directed her and Violet to a set of comfy armchairs in the Home Furnishings department.

At this rate Harry thought as they finally side-alonged back to Lionsgate Park, he might cheerfully never shop again. He'd done fine with rags for the first fifteen years of his life; he thought he could probably manage another fifteen without too much trouble.

They arrived back, just outside the gate, with a slightly louder crack than Harry was used to hearing from the two witches. Harry looked at the long gravel drive leading up to the house and wrinkled his nose.

"I vote we wait until some kind stranger finds us and agrees to carry us up to the house," Harry said.

"Seconded," Dorea groaned as she leaned against one of the ward anchors.

"Come on you two, the sooner we get there the sooner we don't have to do anything else," Violet said grabbing them each by the wrist and dragging them along.

It was easy enough for her to say, she hadn't conjured two Patroni, she'd only nearly been killed she was probably still jacked on adrenaline. Harry sighed and glared at the drive in front of him as if that could make it smaller.

The front door banged opened and three people sprinted down the drive toward them.

"Mum!" shouted the one in the lead pretty much slamming into Violet and hugging her tightly enough to bruise.

Dorea somehow managed to take five running steps and throw herself into Charlus' arms and the slender lawyer in the fancy suit who certainly didn't look like much lifted her easily twirling her around and then kissing her soundly while she wrapped her legs around his waist.

The third one Harry recognized on sight as a very young Sirius Black and he joined the black haired boy that must have been James in trying to squeeze Violet to death.

Harry let out a sigh and closed his eyes unable to watch. Hermione was usually there to give him the thank-Merlin-you're-alive hug, when he returned from mortal danger. He didn't realize how empty and alone he'd feel when she wasn't there. When no one was.

He felt two sets of arms wrap around him and before he could blink he was being squeezed between Charlus and Dorea and so he hesitantly put his own arms around Charlus and hugged back. Hurt and jealously and loneliness melted away and Harry just felt warm, safe and tired.

"We thought..." Charlus started his usually smooth voice husky.

Harry could guess what they'd thought easily enough.

"We're fine, love, we're all home safe, shh, it's alright," Dorea whispered.

After what seemed like forever and at the same time like no time at all they disengaged and Harry switched spots with James and Sirius, using Violet to prop himself up while his father and godfather made sure Dorea knew how glad they were that she was alive.

All of a sudden a chill ran down Harry's spine.

This might have easily been the day that James lost everyone but his grandfather to Voldemort. After all Dorea and Violet would probably have still gone to Diagon Alley to pick up Dorea's supplies and they would have been trapped in that alley while the dementors feasted, the few Patroni overwhelmed or their casters assassinated. The Death Eaters picking off stragglers, the first big tragedy linked to Voldemort and his Death Eaters the first appearance of the Mark. A crippling blow to the morale of the Wizarding World and an even more crippling blow to his family. Charlus would want revenge, would hunt the people responsible for killing his beloved wife until they killed him...and then James would be the last and he would hate Voldemort he would want more than anything to stop the monster and he would be good at it and so would his young wife, so good in fact that they would become targets, and they'd go into hiding, be betrayed...

"What's wrong Harry?" asked Violet quietly.

"Nothing, I just think I understand things better than I did before,"

Violet held him close to her.

"We were supposed to die today,"

"I think you were, I don't know for sure but...it makes sense,"

Violet didn't say anything else but her grip on him tightened as if she could know what he hadn't told her and could watch the lives of the family she loved more than anything slip away one by one as they did in his mind's eye.

"Who's this?" asked James breaking the moment.

It was true what everyone had always said. Harry looked almost exactly like his father. They could have been twins a few days ago but for Lily's eyes and the fact that Harry was smaller. James was tallish and scrawny with a handsome face, straight teeth, hair that was black as night and stuck up at odd angles, and rectangular glasses. He wore muggle jeans and trainers and a Gryffindor team shirt from Quidditch. His wand was tucked into his back pocket and his eyes were a warm brown.

"James, this is your cousin Harry, Harry, this is my son James and his friend Sirius Black,"

"Hey,"

Wow, Po-Prewett real articulate of you, hey, let's not over do it or anything. He thought to himself sarcastically and resisted the urge to groan aloud and bash his head against something. That would only end badly and embarrass him further.

"Hey," chorused the two Gryffindor boys looking at him quizzically.

To head off any potentially awkward silences Harry glanced at Dorea.

"Do you think either of them counts as a kind stranger?" he asked wistfully.

Dorea just laughed.

"Let's get up to the house, it's been a long day and I know Harry and Dorea are ready to fall asleep on their feet," Violet said.

With that Charlus scooped Dorea up bridal style and Violet put a supporting arm around Harry's waist and they all trudged the rest of the way up the drive and into the house. Standing in the foyer pretending to clean were five worried looking House Elves, Harry recognized Fenn and Frannie but the other three were unfamiliar. And for some reason as the floor began tilting to one side the elves began to multiply.

"Whoa, too many Elves," Harry said.

"Stupid he-witch! You've drained yourself dry of your magics," snapped Miss. Disdain as she darted down the stairs and brushed up against his leg.

"Love to discuss this with you, Missy, but we've got to move or we'll fall upside down and squish the new Elves,"

"This bloke's nutters," said Sirius eyeing him warily.

"Are you alright Harry?" asked Violet.

"I didn't know they bred so fast, that's gonna be a problem, where would we put them all?" Harry slurred.

His eyes rolled back in his head and he slumped unconscious into Violet who gave an oof but managed to keep them both off the ground.

"A little help!" she said.

James and Sirius each grabbed an arm and the limp Harry hung between them like some sort of bizarre yoke.

"What's the matter with him?"

"He's exhausted, poor dear," Violet explained.

"He drove off a hundred dementors I'm surprised he didn't pass out before now," Dorea commented sleepily.

"You're going to have to tell me all about that," Charlus said intrigued.

"Mmm, later," murmured Dorea.

"I'm going to take her up to bed, can you three handle Harry?"

"Grandpa he weighs about as much as a quaffle, if we can't handle him we're in serious trouble," James said rolling his eyes.

"This scrawny little git took out a hundred dementors?" said Sirius raising a sceptical eyebrow.

"Oi don't call my cousin a git! By the way Mum since when do I have a cousin named Harry, and why is he here?"

"Well he's my brother, Uncle Greg's, son-"

"But wasn't Uncle Greg eaten by a nundu?"

"Yes, James but-"

"And doesn't he live in Brazil?"

"Harry moved to-"

"So why haven't we seen or heard of Harry before?"

"James, if you would shut your gob she'd tell you," Sirius said as they adjusted Harry to carry him up the stairs.

"Thank you Sirius,"

"No problem Auntie Vee,"

"Now then, James, Harry's mother was a muggleborn and she died not long after Gregorius, and Harry was living with his muggle grandparents in Surrey up until they died a few days ago. They never approved of their daughter's choice in family and didn't want Harry to have any contact with us. It was a rather delicate situation. Your grandfather has been fighting for custody since Annabelle died, and once there was no resistance," Violet shrugged to indicate that of course Harry was here.

"Cool," said James, "Where're we taking him?"

"The room next to the one Remus usually uses," Violet said.

"Got it,"

Violet opened the door to Harry's room to see that the bedding was rumpled and there was a jacket hanging over the foot of the bed. She rolled her eyes and muttered something about teenagers while James and Sirius dumped Harry on the bed.

Miss. Disdain hopped up on the bed and curled up next to Harry making a little nest of his rumpled betting.

"Huh, look at that the cat who doesn't like anyone or anything likes the guy who's dad was eaten by a giant poisonous cat,"

"James, get off the nundu thing,"

"You have to admit it's weird,"

Violet pulled off his shoes and glasses and set them neatly where Harry could find them easily.

"Libby,"

There was a very soft little pop.

"Yes Mistress?" said the cherubic little House Elf that appeared.

"Would you please put Harry's clothes away where he can find them easily, dear?"

"Yes Mistress, Libby is being happy to," answered the creature with a demure little curtsy.

The poor creature had had an abusive former master and she wasn't ever going to recover from the mental and emotional aspects he'd put her through but she was sweet as sugar and very quiet, so she wouldn't wake Harry by accident.

She herded James and Sirius, who were still examining Harry like he was some sort of odd potions experiment gone wrong and muttering things like.

"Five foot nothing and 97 pounds, if that git can do it so can we,"

And

"Oi, stop calling my long lost cousin who's dad was eaten by a nundu a git!"

"Boy's I'm going to have a little nap before dinner, which by the way you're getting from the Gooseberry Pub, enough for everyone this time please, here's some money,"

"Sure thing Mum," James agreed.

"Which means you can't let Sirius buy six coffee's just to chat up Laura Pennywhistle,"

"Aw, c'mon Auntie Vee that was one time, don't you trust me?" asked Sirius giving her his most adorable I'm innocent face.

"No, not really, Sirius, dear, I love you like a second son but your brilliant brain turns to mush the second anyone even remotely attractive walks by,"

"That hurts Auntie Vee,"

"The truth always does Siri," James commented.

Violet shook her head and rolled her eyes as she left the boys to do their boy things.

Now that everyone was safe away, and tucked into their beds Violet hurried back to her room where she shut and locked the door and began to tremble.

She could have died today, should have died today if Harry's white-faced semi-confession was anything to go by. Her heart got stuck somewhere up in her throat and she managed to strip out of her fancy clothes and get into a fluffy bathrobe before curling up in the middle of the bed and sobbing into her pillow.

She wished Jim were here more than ever.

She didn't know if she could handle what was coming, the future Harry came from, all by herself. She wished she were braver but she'd never been Gryffindor material and courage didn't just appear over night.

She sobbed until it seemed she'd run out of tears and then with a pounding headache and a body as floppy as overcooked spaghetti she fell asleep.

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**AN:** Okay before readers have a freak out about that last comment, Sirius will not be an idiot (well no more than any other 15 year old boy) but I have to admit I've always seen him as a bit of a shameless flirt. Also we learn more about Violet! Yay!

Keep sending in your comments on pairing there is still plenty of time to get your opinions heard as this will be a slow build and Harry still has to discover his sexuality.

Due to popular vote, Harry will be starting his animagus transformation on his own, thank you all for your input.

Last but certainly not least, review and let me know what you think!


	8. Chapter 8: Coming Together

**Harry Prewett and the Inadvertent Case of Illegal Time Travel**

**Chapter Eight: Coming Together**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter.

**Author's Note:** Hey guys sorry for the long wait. Big thanks to everyone who reviewed alerted and faved, and congrats to my 100th reviewer Miso Muchi! I'm glad you guys like it, and your overwhelming encouragement and kind comments make my days!

I'm feeling a bit blocked on this fic. I have a good idea of where I want to go for the next few chapters its just getting it all down that's hard. So I wrote out this little interlude to tide you guys over until I can hash out the main course, so to speak. Hope you enjoy!

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"Harry,"

Harry groaned slightly as his head pounded his return to consciousness not at all welcome as a splitting headache throbbed through him.

"It lives,"

"Kill me now," he moaned.

A cultured husky male voice chuckled.

"Reaction headache, you overdid it a bit boyo,"

"Uncle Charlus?"

"Dorea sent me up with a brew for your head and a bit of pepper up potion,"

Harry reached blindly for the vial and Charlus handed him the first one, watching interestedly as his nephew pulled out the stopper with his teeth and downed the thing like a shot of cheap firewhiskey. He shuddered deeply at the taste and groping blindly set the empty vial on the bedside table with a sharp clink.

After a minute Harry managed to roll over face up and blearily open his eyes.

"That was truly vile, but I feel better, is there more?"

"If it was vile there's always more," Charlus replied handing Harry the second vial.

Harry downed the vial of Pepper-Up Potion in the same careless manner and didn't seem to be bothered by the spicy taste.

"Stupid witch-male!" hissed a familiar female voice.

There was a slight barely perceptible dip in the mattress and then Harry had a chest full of bristling angry cat.

"Hey there, Missy," he said going for charmingly contrite as he stroked behind her ears soothingly.

He got a swat across the face for his trouble, luckily it was with sheathed claws.

"Stupid male, using your magic too much! No more, you will take naps, Harry-mine, and rest!"

"I'm sorry I worried you, but I'm fine," Harry said, with more honest contrition.

"I never thought a familiar of mine would be so foolish, I suppose it is because you are male,"

Harry wisely said nothing but began giving Miss. Disdain a thorough finger scrubbing as she grumbled about the idiocy of males in general and him in particular. He didn't take her creative threats too seriously though and he could feel her low rumbling purr beneath his fingers.

"You feeling up for dinner?" Charlus asked unable to hide his amusement as he watched his nephew get bossed by a cat.

"Sure, what're we having?"

"Well James and Sirius picked up some meat pies from the Gooseberry Pub, but Dorea and Violet are both having dinner in their rooms so it's just us guys,"

"Alright," Harry agreed stretching and deftly transferring Miss. Disdain from his chest to the bedspread as he stood up wobbling slightly before he found his balance.

She twitched her tail at him clearly displeased.

"I have to go eat," he pointed out to her as his stomach growled hollowly.

Miss. Disdain didn't deign to comment but she curled up in a hollow of his rumpled comforter and watched him go with narrowed eyes.

"Interesting. I didn't think that cat liked anybody," Charlus commented as they exited the room.

Harry cracked his neck and rolled the stiffness from his shoulders.

"Apparently I'm only the exception because I belong to her majesty,"

Charlus raised one thin black brow.

"Really, that's odd going from an owl familiar to that tempermental feline,"

"How so?" asked Harry curious.

He'd never actually learned about familiars or what they were to a witch or wizard other than friends and companions.

"Owl familiars are more common, they don't speak, but they are unfalteringly loyal, dead useful and they tend to be less picky about their companions. Cats are, as they are about everything else, notoriously finicky about whom they choose, they like strong personalities and have unusual talents. You can have felines in your house every day for the whole of your life but that doesn't mean one will choose you. A familiar is more than just a pet, though now a days people seem to have forgotten that little tidbit, their a complementary personality that helps, guides, and supports a witch or wizard," Charlus explained.

By this time Charlus had given Harry plenty to think about and they'd reached the dining room. True to his word there were half a dozen steaming meat pies that looked and smelled positively mouth-watering but were quite clearly not of Dorea's making. There was some barely discernable something that was not there and Harry thought it might have been the magic of Dorea's love for her family and smiled slightly at the thought.

"Hey Harry," said James with a casual wave and an easy grin.

"Er...hi," said Harry trying not to blush and make a total cake of himself even as shyness began to set in.

Charlus, seeming to sense his hesitation, gave him a little nudge forward with his hip and Harry was propelled a full step into the dining room and then of course he had to take the other steps and sit down across from James.

"So, Harry, inquiring minds want to know, did your father really get eaten by a nundu?" asked Sirius.

What a prat. Thought Harry raising an eyebrow at Sirius' audacity. Little did he know that Charlus was fixing Sirius with a slightly more refined and disapproving version of the same, you-really-think-you-wanna-go-there look.

"No Sirius, it never happened, it was a lie we made up to protect you and James here from the harsh reality of the situation," said Harry dryly.

James laughed, and Harry reached for a meat pie and poked his fork into the top to let some of the steam out. His stomach burbled letting him know that it didn't care how hot the damn pie was it wanted it right now.

"Don't mind Sirius, he didn't mean anything by it, it's just kind of random, you know? I mean a nundu!"

Sheltered. Lucky.

Harry almost understood what Dumbledore meant by letting him have a childhood and waiting until he was older to expose him to the ugliness of the world. Too bad he'd already sampled plenty of the world's ugliness before his ninth birthday.

"No worries, it's fine," Harry said quirking the corner of his lips in a slight smile and taking a bite out of his pie.

"How's your meal, boys?" asked Charlus.

"Good, but not as good as Nana's," James said loyally.

"Not surprising, no one can cook like your Grandmother," Charlus said smiling proudly, "Though from what I've sampled you could give her a run for her money, Harry, those little omelettes you made this morning were delicious,"

Harry couldn't suppress the giddy little curl in his belly at the pleased note in Charlus' voice anymore than he could tamp down the blush, so he accepted the hair ruffling that accompanied the comment with good grace. In for a penny in for a pound after all.

"Auntie Dee, let you in the kitchen?" said Sirius shocked.

"Aunt Dorea lets you call her that?" countered Harry.

"Not really," James said around a mouthful of meat pie, "But he does it anyway and she stopped hexing his hair into pink and yellow waist-length ringlets because of it about two summers ago,"

Harry grinned.

"Please tell me you have pictures,"

"Plenty, don't you worry,"

"You had to bring it up," grumbled Sirius patting at his hair in what seemed to be a reflexive motion.

"Hey, I wasn't the one who put the Pinkening Potion in your soap, that was totally Remus!"

"Speaking of Remus, how is Lenore doing? Did the potions Dorea sent along help at all?" asked Charlus.

Harry deduced that James and Sirius must have been staying with Remus for a few weeks. Sirius and James exchanged a quick glance and Harry flicked his eyes to the big bay window sure that if he could see the moon it would be full.

"Mrs. Lupin was doing good for a couple of weeks, the healers say that the new treatments are working better but she's still gonna have off days. She wasn't looking that great when we left this afternoon," Sirius said, in a strange subdued voice that didn't suit his young carefree looking countenance.

"She said thank you about a million and one times for the potions though," James added.

"We're only too happy to help, Remus is like a third, well fourth now, grandson to me,"

"Thanks Uncle Chuck!" yipped Sirius bouncing up in his seat all solemnity forgotten or forced away.

Harry smothered a laugh with a bite of meat pie. If Sirius had had a tail in that moment it would have been wagging and thumping non-stop. Then he saw Charlus' grimace at the nickname and laughed outright.

"You laugh now, wait until it's you on the receiving end of one of his pet names," Charlus grumbled ruffling Harry's hair until it stuck up with all the wildness of James'.

"So Harry, what's the deal? Are you going to go to Hogwarts?" asked James curiously.

"Yeah, that's actually why we went out today. I needed all my new supplies and a wand. I'll be joining you in Gryffindor this year,"

Sirius and James exchanged another look this one wide-eyed and slightly panicky. Apparently the boys hadn't considered this snag in their carefully laid plans. Harry shot a glance at Uncle Charlus but he was too involved in his meat pie to have noticed.

"That's great," said James though the sentiment sounded a bit forced, then something occurred to him, "Hey, do you play Quidditch?"

"Yeah, I played on the team at my old school, seeker," Harry said.

"Yeah, you have the build for it," James nodded, looking at him critically, sizing him up, "Well, you wouldn't be my first pick just because you're pretty small and light, but our Keeper graduated and we're in desperate need of a half-decent flyer,"

"Simmer down, Prongs, you'll scare him off and then where will we be?" Sirius stage-whispered.

Harry chewed thoughtfully on his lower lip, considering.

"I've never player keeper before really, not even with my mates, but I guess I could try-out, see how it goes," he shrugged, "People say I'm a good flier, at least,"

"That's great! Don't worry, Siri and I will coach you, give you a fighting chance," said James practically bouncing up and down.

"Alright," agreed Harry with an internal sigh.

He was pretty sure he'd just signed on for Quidditch a la Oliver Wood. Still he couldn't bring himself to mind too much, he was going to get to spend time with James and Sirius get to know them better. Besides he really did want to stay on the Quidditch team if he could manage it. It was good exercise and a break from the stress of schoolwork.

The rest of dinner devolved into a argument over which was the better broom model the Comet 260 or the Cleansweep 500 and Harry was denounced as a complete heathen when he stood up for the Nimbus 1000.

Later that night while everyone was asleep, Harry was reading quietly under Missy's watchful eye, unable to get back to bed after his long nap that afternoon. The words of his potions text blurred before Harry's eyes and so he closed the book and let his mind wander. This was the year that the Marauders had perfected their animagus transformations and started running with Remus on full moon nights. It was going to take time to earn their trust but maybe if he was lucky he would eventually be included. And maybe once he was he could stop James and Sirius from being so reckless.

With that thought in mind Harry got up from bed.

"Where are you going, Harry-mine? It is sleep time for witches, and you are not sleeping!" Miss. Disdain scolded getting to her feet.

"I just want to get another book from the library, you want to come?"

Rather than answering with words Miss. Disdain stretched languidly and jumped off the bed. Taking a moment to wind herself around his legs before preceding him out the door.

Harry didn't bother with his wand, the moon was full, as Harry expected it would be, and the silvery light was more than enough illumination for Harry to follow Missy through the twisting corridors to the family library.

The library had the same hushed feel to it that was characteristic of libraries, but this silence felt welcoming and there were plenty of plush chairs and couches tucked into every nook and cranny and not so much as a speck of dust.

The stacks were easy to navigate clearly labelled and separated first by fiction and non-fiction, then they were alphabetized by genre, title, and author. It took all of ten minutes for Harry to find all the books he was looking for. Texts on how to become an animagus. The tomes had a well-read feel to them not like some of the books in the Hogwarts library which clearly hadn't been touched in years. These books had been used, and used well and recently and sure enough when Harry opened one there were a few notes jotted down in Sirius' neat handwriting. Harry ran his fingers over the words lightly, missing his godfather despite the fact he was sleeping down the hall from him.

Harry took the books back to his room and read until Miss. Disdain insisted rather forcefully that his put down the stupid book and go to sleep.

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**AN:** And there you have it. If any of you has a good idea for a non-magical or underage wizard friendly prank let me know in a review.

Also keep sending me your votes on pairings, I've narrowed it down to Sirius, Severus, Remus or Regulus. For those of you who wanted a more exotic pairing, I apologize for the disappointment but maybe next time!

As always I love to hear what you guys think, so please drop me a review.

Until next time, hope you enjoyed!


	9. Chapter 9: Of Idiots and Insecurities

**Harry Prewett and the Case of Inadvertent Illegal Time Travel**

**Chapter Nine: Of Incorporation and Idiots with Insecurities**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter.

**Author's Note:** Hey everyone, welcome back, thanks so much to everyone who reviewed, alerted, and favourited! You guys are the absolute best of the best. Now on to the good stuff!

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When Harry woke it was to the feeling of something wet and slimy crawling across his face. He swatted it away and rolled over trying to get back to sleep when he felt a few more crawling up his arm, then across the back of his neck, then across his back.

"What the -" he muttered groggily, rolling over, opening his eyes and reaching for his glasses.

He put them on and blinked as he watched a slimy green spider the size of a walnut climb down his arm leaving a gooey green streak. He looked down to find his bed and his chest was crawling with them.

"Bloody hell!" he yelped loudly rolling out of the infested bed.

He hit the floor with a loud thump and scrambled back towards his closet yanking his shirt off as he went.

Behind him there was a loud very familiar barking laugh, and Harry turned to stare incredulously at Sirius who was laughing and pointing.

"Whassamatta!" demanded James as he ran into view glasses barely hanging on to the end of his nose and his hair sticking up rather more crazily than usual, apparently having just rolled out of bed.

"You should see your face!" howled Sirius doubled over, "And that girly little scream!"

James blinked and pushed his glasses up his nose staring at Harry and then his spider infested bed.

"Sliming Spiders?" he asked grinning widely.

"Yep!" said Sirius proudly, "I picked them up from Gambol and Japes before the end of term, I was going to use them on Reggie, but never got the chance,"

Harry scowled darkly. He was beginning to understand Ron's fear of spiders. His skin was still crawling.

"Don't worry," James assured him, "They only last for about a half-hour, tops,"

"Long enough, I've been working on extending their life and making them explode goo if you try and banish them," Sirius enthused.

"Really, how's it going?" asked James.

"Well, they explode goo," Sirius shrugged.

"You know we could try -"

"Look, as fascinating as this conversation is, I need a shower," Harry interrupted squirming in his own skin as phantom slime trails traced themselves over his back and arms, "I've got the heebie jeebies,"

Harry moved past them into the hallway pulling his bedroom door shut behind him.

"Hey, is that a tattoo?" asked James his voice a tad awed as he pointed at Harry's chest.

"Oh, uh, yeah, I got it done for my birthday," Harry said holding his arms out to the sides so that James could get a better look.

"Awesome, do you think mum would let me get one?"

"Not a chance," said Sirius looking a bit grumpy.

"It hurt's like a bitch anyway," Harry said trying to be consoling.

James snorted.

"Can't be any worse than trying to grow antlers, plus it's way cooler," James snorted.

Sirius elbowed him in the ribs.

"Ow, hey!"

Harry raised an eyebrow at Sirius.

"We promised Remus we weren't gonna talk about that prank, remember?" Sirius hissed.

"Oh, right," James said sheepishly running a hand through his mussed hair making it stick up even more, "Forget I said anything, I'm just not really awake yet,"

"Riiiight...I get first dibs on the bathroom," Harry said.

Harry slipped past them and dashed into the bathroom where he stripped and turned the shower up to scalding hot and full blast.

"So gross," he muttered scrubbing the slime off his arms.

When he got out of the shower, Harry was relieved to find that James and Sirius had gone off somewhere else and the Sliming Spiders were already starting to disappear from his bedspread and Miss. Disdain was having a blast hunting the few that were dumb enough to venture to the floor. The only reason she found them amusing was because she hadn't had them crawling all over her.

Harry could not believe Sirius had pulled that prank on the first day, without even giving Harry a chance to get to know him. What a jerk. At least James hadn't been in on it.

He got dressed in jeans and a t-shirt and headed to the sanctuary that was the kitchen. He was pretty sure Dorea would maim Sirius if he so much as thought about pranking in or around her sacred kitchen.

Dorea was already there, looking rested and relaxed despite the trauma of yesterday's attack, dressed in her silk robe and sipping from a large mug.

"What's with the sour face, you want some coffee?" asked Dorea as he slipped through the door.

There was a large pan of bacon and sausages sizzling on one of the burners, twice as much as yesterday, the smell was heavenly and Harry's stomach growled.

"I got pranked," he grumbled accepting the mug she handed him.

"Yeah, you've got to watch out for that, the boys think that they're quite the comedians," she said rolling her eyes.

"Yeah, Sliming Spiders, hilarious," Harry deadpanned.

Dorea chuckled a bit. It was that stupid chuckle that adults sometimes got that said quite clearly that he had no idea, and she had little to no sympathy for him.

"Well, I've got something that'll put the bit back in your mouth, so to speak,"

"Great, what're we cooking?"

"Toad in a hole,"

"Uh, no offence but that sounds gross,"

"It's just a name, there are no actual toads involved," Dorea assured him.

"Alright, so what is it?"

"Poached egg in the hole of a bagel with hollandaise sauce and melted cheese,"

Harry's mouth watered.

"That sounds so good," he very nearly moaned.

Dorea laughed again.

"It's delicious," she assured him, "Now the first thing you need to know is how to properly poach an egg,"

Dorea lectured Harry on the poaching of eggs, the requirements for the perfect hollandaise sauce, and the necessity of adding a ton of cheese while not making the bagel soggy and gross.

It took a few hundred failures, that Harry was allowed to eat a few of to keep his complaining stomach quiet, and a botched batch of sauce, but Harry and Dorea managed to turn out enough eggy, cheese-covered deliciousness, as Sirius described it, to feed a small army within an hour and a bit.

Dorea waved her wand, and when Harry entered the dining room the trays piled high with the fruits of the morning's labour were sitting on the side-board. Sirius, James and Violet were already in the dining room and were quick to pile their plates high.

Harry served himself and moved to sit down in the empty seat between Violet and Dorea and across from James.

He yelped as he fell right through the chair sloshing hot coffee all over his chest.

Sirius burst out laughing and James sniggered a bit.

"Ladies, I present to you the Not There Chair!" he said standing up and bowing theatrically.

Harry grit his teeth and took a deep breath. He tried counting to ten and that didn't really help. Sirius was just hazing him, he knew that they were pranksters, and it wasn't like he'd spilled his breakfast.

"Oi, I'm no lady!"

"So you keep saying Jamie, I remain unconvinced,"

Dorea swatted Sirius upside the head with her rolled up copy of the Daily Prophet.

"Hey!" he protested.

"No pranks at the table," she ordered sternly.

"Here, now, Harry dear, don't move and I'll fix up that spill," Violet said waving her wand in an odd little pattern.

The coffee was drawn out of the rug and his shirt and with a splooshing sound poured itself back into the mug which was then levitated to the side-board and vanished into the kitchen. Harry tried to smile, not wanting to seem like a poor sport, and accepted another cup of coffee and a chair from Dorea.

"Dig in, you lot, the food's getting cold!" Dorea urged taking a bite of her bagel.

The praise, from Violet and James anyway, was effusive, and even though Sirius didn't say anything he did eat twice as much as everyone else, so Harry figured the toads-in-a-holes were a hit with him too.

"So what are you three up to today?" Dorea asked.

Before anyone could answer Violet cut in.

"Keeping in mind I want the three of you to do something together and get to know each other a bit better," she said sternly with a pointed look at James.

"Sure thing Auntie Vee, not a problem!" Sirius said bouncy but not terribly enthusiastic.

"We'll start training Harry!" James said excitedly, "I cannot wait to see you in the air, man, I'm serious,"

"James, you're having that identity crisis thing again, I'm Sirius, remember?"

The whole table sighed and Harry snorted and grinned.

"I can't believe you just made that joke,"

"It's more astonishing when he doesn't make that joke," Violet groaned.

"What position are you training for Harry?" asked Dorea curiously, "I know you played seeker before,"

"Uh, yeah, James says Gryffindor already has a Seeker so I'm going to train for Keeper, see how it goes," Harry shrugged.

"It's going to be awesome, I have time to hand train you, I mean if you're even a half-way to good flyer we will totally kill Hufflepuff on the pitch this year, finally!" James said around a gulp of juice.

"Dude, Diggory is gone next year lighten up, even if we don't get it this year no way the Puffs are going to pull it together without him," Sirius said waving his hand dismissively.

"To be the best Siri, and know you're the best, you have to beat the best. Diggory's team is the best, he's been Captain since his third year, knows how to pull together a team better than anyone I've ever seen," James trailed off shaking his head.

"You could just ask for tips, Golden Boy Diggory-"

Harry nearly choked on his coffee at the familiar title.

"—would give you all the info you could ask for," Sirius pointed out.

"I have to beat him first. If I use his advice to beat him I haven't beaten him," James insisted stubbornly.

"But you'll use his advice to beat everyone else,"

"Exactly,"

"That, mate, is a little bit hypocritical and besides which, did Hartly have a tragic accident I don't know about and name you Captain in the will or something?"

James sighed irritably.

"Semantics," he insisted taking another bite of his breakfast.

"Who's Hartly?" asked Harry even though he could pretty much tell who he was without the guys having to spell it out.

"Frankie Hartly, she's Gryffindor's Quidditch Captain," James said.

"She's also our Seeker, hence why you can't have the job," added Sirius.

"Frankie?"

"Her real name is Francesca, she's towering, thin, no real figure to speak of but, Morgana, her legs," said Sirius reverently.

"Dear Merlin, Sirius, I don't need to hear that I went to school with her mother and still have to talk to her at functions," Violet said scandalized.

"Besides she's the Captain," James added.

"If she stays with Warrington all year, again, I swear I'll cry," Sirius sighed wistfully.

"They're betrothed, nephew, let it be," Dorea advised.

"But all I'm asking for is - "

James slapped a hand over Sirius' mouth.

"So training?" said Harry loudly and brightly.

"Right, well, thanks for breakfast Nana," James said standing abruptly and kissing Dorea on the cheek then moving around to do the same to his mother, "But we've got to go before Sirius starts waxing lyrical about Hartley's, er, assets,"

James dragged Sirius from the room and Harry followed, torn between the urge to laugh and cringe.

"I can't believe you were about to talk about boning the Captain in front of my mum," James said shaking his head.

"Auntie Vee has had sex before, case in point," Sirius said indicating James.

"That doesn't mean I want to think about it, or talk to her about it, the big Talk was bad enough, back me up here Harry,"

Harry, who had never had a sex talk with any of his pseudo-parental figures, made some sort of non-committal noise that James took for agreement.

"Thank you!"

"Alright, alright, I'm just saying," Sirius said putting his hands up in the universal gesture of surrender.

The three boys headed outside in rare silence. It was a typical lukewarm overcast summer day, not committed to rain but certainly considering its proposal. James led the charge out past the greenhouses to a little wooden shed on the edge of the pitch.

"This was my Dad's first love," James said with a laugh, opening the door.

Inside the shed was something like a cross between a storage shed and a Quidditch museum. Warm wood panelling a few glass cases with old school team uniforms, mounts on the wall a few trunks with increasingly ancient sets of balls offset by photos of teams and what Harry recognized as the latest in Quidditch gear.

"Wow," Harry said breathlessly, "This is...amazing,"

"Yeah, every broom my Dad ever owned is in here, some of them are Grandpa's, Mom's old Silver Arrow is over there in the corner, my first broom, they're all here. Some people they have family traditions, scrapbooks or whatever, to remember their parents and grandparents, to find a connection to them. Our family is all here. When I have kids, this will all still be here and I'm going to show it to them and tell them stories...they're gonna know about all the important stuff, you know?"

Harry's throat was all choked up, and he didn't think he would be able to squeeze the words out so he cast around for a distraction. In the corner was a desk, a chalkboard with a faded play and a few shelves with a whole mess load of well-loved looking Quidditch texts and guides as well as scads of leather bound books with no titles.

"What's this?" he croaked.

James didn't seem to notice.

"That's what I like to call the Captain's Corner. All my Dad's Quidditch journals, a set up for play-making, references on training techniques, everything a Captain needs is right here," James paused a bittersweet smile playing on his lips, then he looked up and it was gone, "But you are not going to get anywhere sitting at a desk and reading about strategy, at least not til we get some hands on experience in you,"

James handed Harry a net of severely abused looking Quaffles and grabbed a couple of brooms. Sirius had his own broom over his shoulders and was watching Harry and James with an unreadable expression.

"Well, what are we waiting for let's get started," Harry said.

"That's the spirit! Come on let's get out onto the pitch I want to see how you fly," James insisted.

The three boys left the warmth of the shed and headed out to the big flat patch of lawn with its makeshift goal hoops.

Sirius swung a leg over his broom and kicked off hard, shooting into the air faster than Harry would have expected on such an old model broom. Harry set his net of quaffles on the ground, and watched, impressed despite himself with some of Sirius' moves.

"Here you go Harry, you can have my old Shooting Star, it's not the best thing out there but it's sturdy," James said tossing Harry a thick handled broom that looked old and well-loved.

There was barely a twig out of place and the handle had been recently polished.

"Sweet, thanks James,"

"Don't mention it," said James with an easy grin.

"Jamie, are we gonna play or what?" Sirius whined.

"In a sec, I forgot Harry's a newbie Keeper, so we're gonna need a pair of gloves and some goggles so you don't get too wrecked up trying to handle the quaffle. I'm going to get some more stuff from the shed, I'll be right back. You two start warming up!"

James jogged back across the field to the Quidditch shed, and Harry mounted his broom and kicked off getting used to the slow and muted responses of the old broom.

Harry did a couple of loop de loops getting a feel for the broom's speed and handling, and trying to compensate for its deficiencies, when Sirius rammed him from behind and sent him skidding across the pitch, dropping a few feet before recovering. He just managed to hang onto his broom with one hand and was trying to catch his breath while dangling twenty feet up.

"Watch out for bludgers, Prewett," Sirius sing-songed circling him like some sort of human vulture.

That was the last straw.

Harry saw red. He swung himself up onto his broom dropped another ten feet, banked hard and threw himself through the air, into Sirius, and sending them both tumbling onto the soft grass and layer of cushioning charms. They rolled and Harry kept of firm hold on Sirius until they lost momentum at which point he pinned the larger boy's arms above his head and straddled his waist.

"What the hell was that!" Sirius demanded.

"What the hell was that? What the hell was with that stunt you just pulled? Huh? What was with the pranks, and trying to embarrass me in front of my family? What the hell is your problem with me, Black?"

Sirius' grey eyes darkened to charcoal and he threw Harry off him easily and got to his feet gesturing wildly.

"My problem! My problem is you've been here for, what? Three days? And already you've taken my place! James is all Harry, this, and Harry, that! Dorea, my aunt, my own blood, lets you in the kitchen and is teaching you to cook!"

"You just about killed me, because you're fucking jealous! Are you insane!"

"Fuck you!"

Sirius turned and began to stalk away.

"Don't you walk away from me, Sirius Black! You owe me that much!"

Sirius whipped around.

"I don't owe you shit!"

"Well, too bad, because I have something to say to you and you are going to listen!" Harry said grabbing his bicep and pulling the angry teen to a halt, "You know what poor you, you have an amazing best-friend and a relationship with some of the nicest people I've ever met, and you're so possessive that you can't let them get close to someone else? Is that it? I would kill, to have even a fraction of the connection you have with this family!" Harry bit out angrily.

Sirius paused, still glowering but not trying to stomp away.

"Don't you get it? This is the first time I've been with family who actually gave a damn since I was a baby, and I refuse to apologize for trying to get to know my cousin or anyone else. Damnit, Black, I'm not trying to replace you, I'm trying to carve out my own little place in this family, and with you! And maybe you should talk to your best-friend about your bloody insecurities instead of trying to knock me out of the air!" Harry shouted poking him in the shoulder roughly.

Sirius cocked his head to the left.

"You want to be friends with me?"

"Yes! If you would quit with the mean-spirited pranks, you prick! You're smart, funny, and you and James are practically joined at the hip anyway so why the hell not!" Harry shouted throwing his hands up in complete and utter exasperation.

Sirius gave Harry an assessing once over. Harry wasn't sure what he was looking for or what he saw, but Sirius gave a decisive nod.

"You like me," he said a Cheshire grin curling across his mouth.

"Not at the moment, no!"

"Alright, alright, I'm sorry, you're right I was being a bit of an ass,"

"Not to mention a royal pain in mine,"

"Can we be friends anyway?"

"I dunno, maybe? No more stupid shit?"

"No more stupid shit, I promise," Sirius said flashing a charming grin and holding out a hand to shake.

Harry regarded it suspiciously for a moment before taking it and shaking it. Sirius used the connection to pull Harry right next to him and sling a companionable arm over his shoulder.

"Well, then I suppose we ought to make a half-way decent keeper out of you, after all,"

"Sirius, you better not be hitting on my cousin!" James shouted jogging across the pitch.

Sirius made his eyes go wide and innocent.

"I would never!" he yelled back with mock outrage.

"Uh huh, tell it to someone who believes you," James snorted tossing a pair of gloves and some goggles at Harry, "What are we doing on the ground? We have to get you in decent shape!"

"Slave driver," Harry muttered ducking out from under Sirius' arm and putting on the protective gear, heading back towards where they'd left the brooms.

"Let's go!" James shouted again.

* * *

**AN:** For those of you who are worries about one-dimensional conflict don't worry we're going to be revisting some of the above issues in more detail, but I really didn't want Harry and Sirius feuding especially since James is trying so hard to include Harry and develop a rapport with him.

For those of you waiting with bated breath to know, I remain an indecisive flake about the pairing. Sorry. *shrugs*

Also I know I'm not the most regular updater of all time but I thought it was fair warning to let you guys know with school starting up it could be a really, really, really long time before my next update. I apologize in advance but that's just life right now.

As always let me know what you guys think and any suggestions you might have for plot, I love hearing from you and your comments always make my day!

Til next time!


	10. Chapter 10: Lay Me Down to Sleep

**Harry Prewett and the Case of Inadvertent Illegal Time Travel**

**Chapter Ten: Lay Me Down to Sleep**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter.

**Author's Note:** I'm sorry guys, eight months for this pathetic excuse of a chapter, I know, it's not fair. I tried to turn out something completely different and I got stuck every time, in fact I barely got this scrap of fluff out. So I'm hoping that by muscling past this bit and getting the Marauders to Hogwarts and such will give me back the reins of this particular story.

Thanks to everybody who reviewed, alerted and favourited and to all those who PM'ed me to let me know that my story was missed!

* * *

The last few weeks before the start of term flew buy in a rather quidditch shaped blur as Harry came to the conclusion that Oliver Wood had nothing on James Potter when it came to quidditch fanaticism. James was determined to make him into the best keeper he could be and Harry was pretty sure the military had a less rigorous training program. Sirius wasn't nearly as bad as James but Harry suspected that he was taking a certain amount of pleasure in watching Harry suffer, not having completely forgiven him for getting along so well with James.

Things with Sirius were still a bit rocky. As much as Sirius enjoyed the idea that Harry liked him and wanted him around he really didn't like sharing attention and was just, in general, kind of a berk. It was a cold comfort to know that he would, eventually, grow out of it. There were times though when hanging with Sirius was just about the most fun Harry had every had in his life, like the day James spent the afternoon with his grandfather.

They went into town together and raided the music store, Sirius pointed out all the albums he thought were cool and tried to explain about the differences between muggle and magical styles to Harry, who was clueless when it came to music. Then they went to get ice cream from the Ye Olde Ice Cream Shoppe, which was run by a young pregnant woman with a shaved head and a nose ring whose name was Erica and had been Sirius' first crush, and the stories she told were hilarious. Sirius then dragged him to the grocery store where they bought a loaf of bread and took it down to the pond to feed to the ducks and played Exploding Snap under the weeping willow tree.

Sirius and James were becoming something more like friends than people he just happened to hang out with everyday and, best of all in Harry's opinion, they didn't pester him with questions about his old life.

Besides all that there was the freedom in running amok with the two pranksters in the nearby mixed magical and muggle town of Hollybrook and not having his face plastered across the front of a newspaper or being stopped and gawked at on the streets because of his status as the Boy-Who-Lived.

Hollybrook was a great place, filled with great people, not to mention it was the only place Harry had ever been where you could by groceries and potions ingredients in one place.

Harry often wondered why he'd never heard of places like this before. In fact as far as he knew there were no mixed towns in his time but that didn't make much sense to him because according to James situations like Hollybrook, where the muggle town had expanded upon an existing Wizarding community, weren't that uncommon especially around some of the old Manors. The Bones', the McKinnons, the Longbottoms, the MacDougals, and the Prewetts all lived in a similar situation to the Potters.

The Malfoys, Lestranges, Warringtons, Greengrasses and the other families that valued blood purity, on the other hand, had warded the land for miles around their estates to keep the muggles out. Sometimes centuries in advance of the spread of population. Then there were those, like the Blacks, who kept their family seat in a London townhouse, completely hidden from the muggles around them and most likely plotting the demise of their neighbours.

The night before September first found Sirius and Harry both stretched out on James' bed watching as he turned his room inside out trying to pack. Sirius had tuned the wireless into a music station and was drumming his fingers along to some band called Dragon Bait.

"I think I want a guitar," Sirius announced to the room at large.

"Siri you don't know how to play the guitar," James pointed out, dumping a stack of clean Hogwarts uniforms into his trunk carelessly.

"I could learn," Sirius said.

"True," Harry agreed with a nod.

"Don't listen to this git," snorted James, "Last year he was on about taking up photography, bought the camera and everything and it sat rotting in a corner for half the year—"

"Until Christmas where it made Doe an excellent gift," Sirius finished with a smug grin.

James snorted again.

"If you want to learn to play the guitar, Sirius, you should go for it. Just make sure you actually want to do the learning part and not just have the finished product pop out of nowhere," Harry said.

Sirius wrinkled his nose.

"Have you seen my copy of _1000 Magical Herbs and Fungi_?" James interrupted.

"Under the desk," Harry and Sirius chorused laconically.

James bent and pulled the book and a few others from the drift of textbooks that had accumulated under his desk.

"How in the hell did I get so much junk? Y'know, you lazy sods could get up and help," James said scowling at them as he tossed the textbooks into his open trunk.

"It's not our fault you're not ready," Harry pointed out.

"And who's the lazy sod here, our trunks are already packed and downstairs by the door," Sirius added indignantly.

James tossed his glasses, the sturdier black pair, onto his desk in disgust and ran both hands through his hair making it stick up wildly.

"I'm done with this!" he announced, "Mum can just owl me anything I've forgotten."

"You've got half your damn room in that bloody trunk Jamie, what could you possibly have forgotten?" Sirius asked rolling his eyes.

"You know as well as I do it's always something, and besides who forgot all their underwear last summer and had to have it mailed."

"Who filled all of my underwear with that muggle itching powder, forcing me to wash it all the night before we had to leave," Sirius retorted, tossing the pillow under his head at his best friend's face.

James snatched it out of the air with contemptuous ease. He wasn't a Gryffindor chaser because of his looks after all.

"A waste of a perfectly good sample product too since you found me out before you put them on," James lamented.

James tossed the pillow back at Sirius, who dodged it with a well timed duck, and it smacked Harry full in the face with a soft whump.

"Missed me, missed me!" sing-songed Sirius, pulling a face at James.

Harry rolled his eyes and thwacked Sirius over the head with the pillow in question. Sirius turned on him, his grey eyes glinting with a predatory sort of good humour.

"Oh ho ho! Now you're gonna get it, Prewett! This means war!"

Sirius retaliated by tackling Harry to the bed and digging his fingers into his ticklish sides.

"No, no, no!" Harry said giggling hysterically, "Don't, ah, Sirius! Don't poke there, please! James, help!"

James joined in the fray, tugging Sirius off Harry and pinning him down while Harry exacted his revenge by brushing delicate touches along the insteps of his feet and the backs of his knees sending Sirius into twitching fits of howling laughter. Then, just for the fun of it, Harry and Sirius ganged up on James and for awhile after that it was a free for all tickle war.

They fell all together in a heap in the rumpled scarlet bedding breathless and gasping out laughs here and there. Sirius was sprawled out on top of James and Harry's head was pillowed on the back of Sirius' thigh and his legs hanging over the side of James' bed when the wireless went silent with a soft fizzle.

James raised his head up a bit, frowning in the general direction of the wireless.

"What happened to the music?" he murmured.

"Don't move. M'tired, you're comfy," Sirius grumbled.

"Mmm," hummed James absently his eyelids drooping down to half-mast.

"Budge up," Harry ordered Sirius with a soft nudge.

Obligingly Sirius shifted and inch or so closer to James.

With an eloquent snort Harry stuck a boney elbow into Sirius to let him know he did not appreciate his sense of humor.

Sirius was already breathing deeply, having fallen asleep on James' chest. James was mere moments away from joining him. Not wanting to move and feeling rather sleepy himself Harry toed off his socks and swung his legs up onto the bed where they tangled with Sirius' and James'. He wriggled a bit to get comfortable slinging one arm over the jut of Sirius hipbone and burying his face in the small of the taller boy's back.

With a heavy sigh of contentment he drifted off into a peaceful sleep, the slight twinge in his scar going completely unnoticed.

* * *

**AN: **Again I apologize for the super-long wait and the flakiness of this update! Don't kill me! In fact please channel all complaints into reviews! I'll see you all next time, and I hope you enjoyed this little filler chapter.


	11. Chapter 11: Bad News Comes in Threes

**Harry Prewett and the Case of Inadvertent Illegal Time-Travel**

**Chapter Eleven: Bad News Comes in Threes**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter.

**Author's Note: **Hey party people! Still alive, betcha never would have guessed that! Thanks to everyone who took the time to review or drop me a PM, you guys rule! More thanks to everyone who alerted and faved. Another short one I'm afraid but it is better then the last one if you ask me. Now what are you still doing up here? Go forth and read your long awaited update.

* * *

Harry, Sirius and James were jolted out of sound sleep when James' bedroom door burst open and a frantic looking Violet strode in.

"Wha—"

"Boys, get up, we need to go now!"

"Mum? What time is it?" asked James dazedly he and Harry both groping on the floor beside the bed for their glasses.

Harry finally found his and slipped them on rolling off Sirius and out of bed. The clock on James' wall read five thirty and a glance out the window told him that the heavy rain was blocking out the sunrise.

Violet was pale, brow furrowed with worry, still dressed in her pajamas with a sweater thrown over top her hair rivalling her son's for wildness and her eyes darting from side to side. Her hands kept straying to the hem of her night-shirt and she was fingering the wand sticking out of her pocket.

Harry felt as though someone had dropped a chunk of ice into his gut. Something was very wrong.

"Hurry up and get downstairs, don't bother getting dressed, if you take the time we'll have to get the next train," she added sharply before sweeping out.

"Mum, hold on a minute, what's going on? Mum!"

"Come on, we better get moving," Harry said tugging on Sirius' arm, "Get up we've got to go."

"I'm coming. I'm coming. Leave off!"

"What do you lot reckon all the fuss is over?" asked James tugging a sweater over his head, "Here Harry, Siri, just wear one of mine."

Harry caught the pullover James tossed at him and yanked it over his head.

"Something must have happened, something bad," he said grimly.

"Why would you think that?"

"S'just a feeling."

Actually more than a feeling or an instict, though Harry did have that familiar clenching in his gut as well, it was more like Harry had been through enough bad situations that he knew the signs backwards, forwards and upsidedown and Violet was exhibiting all of them, but he wasn't about to say that out loud.

Sirius and James exchanged a glance and followed Harry down the stairs. Harry scooped up Missy on his way down, ignoring her complaints and insistence that she could walk on her own.

Dorea was standing in the foyer her arms crossed tight over her chest, her wand in hand.

"Nana?"

"Are you ready?" Dorea asked sharply.

"Yeah, but please, can someone explain what's going on?" said James running a nervous hand through his bed head.

Dorea shook her head grimly.

"There were a number of attacks last night by those lunatics calling themselves deatheaters. The Roost was burned to the ground with the Featheringtons inside, the Floo Network was infiltrated and a number of important officials snatched from their beds, the Wizarding Wireless headquarters was destroyed as well. There is a good chance that these deatheaters could attack Hogsmeade, Platform 9 ¾ or the Hogwarts Express. The Ministry has re-routed all the trains and they will run all day at different times. Hogsmeade has been warded against unauthorized apparation, floo and portkeys for the foreseeable future. It's a bloody mess, in short."

"Where's Grandpa?" asked James a bit fearfully.

"He's gone to the office," said Dorea, with a sigh, "We're going to raise the rest of Lionsgate's wards tonight and Charlus is petitioning for the right to ward Hollybrook and declare it under Potter domain but since that hasn't been done in over one hundred years it's a bit tricky. The laws are obscure and the Ministry is of course resistant to the idea. He'll end up petitioning on behalf of the other old families too, I've no doubt."

"Are you ready?" interrupted Violet, striding into the foyer her wand tapping nervously against her thigh as she walked.

"Yeah Mum, we're ready."

"Let's go then."

The pajama-clad family quickly pulled on their shoes and did last minute checks on wands and luggage while Harry ushered Missy into her cat carrier and pointedly ignored her complaints.

The walk to the end of the drive was silent and almost furtive and Harry resisted the urge to just jog the rest of the way in order to make the walk end. After what seemed like an inordinately long time they finally came abreast of the lion statues that guarded Lionsgate. The huge stone cats were awake betrayed by their twitching tails and glowing eyes, watching the ward-line attentively.

"Alright, Dorea would you take Harry and Sirius?"

"Of course," she said sliding her wand up her sleeve, "Take my hands boys."

Sirius and Harry each took a hold of one of Dorea's hands and held tightly while James linked an arm through one of his mother's.

There was a sharper than usual crack and Harry felt the now-familiar sensation of being squeezed through a very small tube as the five of them disapparated from Lionsgate and arrived on Platform Nine and Three Quarters.

It was quiet. Far too quiet for anyone's comfort, in fact. Even Missy's complaints tapered off into silence at the oppressiveness of it.

On a normal day the platform should have been crowded with parents and siblings, mingling and chatting, with owls swooping overhead and cats winding their lithe furry bodies through the legs of the unwary.

Today there was a small group of grim looking parents clutching their wands in white-knuckled grips and the train. Not the Hogwarts Express, but a sleek black steam engine that had clearly been diverted from some other route.

"This train will be departing in five minutes, students please be advised that this train will be departing in five minutes," intoned a woman's voice warningly over what passed for an intercom in the wizarding world.

Dorea and Violet were quick to whip out their wands and unshrink their school trunks.

"Quickly now," Violet urged, "Or you'll miss the train."

James was quick to throw his arms around his mother.

"Be careful. I love you," he murmured into the shoulder of her dressing gown.

"That should be my line," said Violet smoothing the wild hair back from her son's forehead with a watery smile, "Try not to get into any more trouble than usual, alright darling?"

"Sure thing Mum."

James then turned to hug Dorea and Harry and Sirius found themselves scooped up by Violet, squashed uncomfortably close as she tried to fit her arms around both of them at once.

"The same goes for you two, stay safe."

"You too."

"We want owls from all three of you, at least once a week!" added Dorea.

"Of course," Harry agreed easily, accepting a hug from Dorea, "I'll need all the help I get on my potions homework, after all."

"I want to hear from Remus too," added Violet with a sharp nod, "Make sure you tell him James. That boy could do with a bit of mothering."

"I will, Mum. I'm sure Remy'll be more diligent than us about writing too."

"Remy's always more diligent than us in everything so that's hardly gonna be a surprise," Sirius added.

"Just as long as you do send letters. We worry you know."

"We'll be fine," said Sirius breezily, "That is if we even get to Hogwarts this year and don't just spend the lot of it hugging. Merlin, Auntie Dee, you're breaking my ribs, here!"

"Alright, alright, get going you unappreciative ingrate. Scat!"

With cheer that was more than a little bit forced the three boys grabbed their trunks and hauled them onto the train just in time for the last call whistle.

The first compartment they stuck their noses in was empty so they quickly ducked inside and waved to Dorea and Violet with exaggerated vigor as the train puffed out of the station and they continued waving until they were around the corner and out of sight of the platform.

As soon as the train was out of sight of the platform they pulled themselves back into the train compartment and slumped into the seats bonelessly, all the manic energy having been drained out of them.

"I know we just got up, but I'm exhausted," sighed James running a hand through his bed head.

"That was stressful," agreed Sirius.

"D'you think anyone we know is even on this train?" asked James.

Sirius shrugged, "Who cares. I'm taking a nap."

"But what if Remus and Peter are on the train?"

Harry stiffened at the mention of Pettigrew and bent to let Missy out of her cat carrier so that James and Sirius wouldn't see the half-formed snarl that twitched to life on his lips whenever the rat was mentioned, trying to remind himself that as of right now Peter Pettigrew probably wasn't that bad of a guy. A little pathetic but not a traitorous coward who deserved to have his tongue eaten out of his head by fire-ants.

"If Remy's here he'll be looking for us. So we should stay put and take a nap."

"What if Lily's on this train?" said James chewing his lip thoughtfully.

"Oh no," said Sirius warningly, sitting up faster than Harry would have given him credit for given his somnolent state, "You are not going into Evans Obsession mode before we've even made it Hogwarts. What if she's not on this train? What then? I'll tell you what then. Then you'll have frantically searched the entire bloody train twice and asked everyone on board if they've seen her, pissed off any number of people, animals and inanimate objects and worried yourself into a near heart-attack!"

"But-"

"No buts. We're taking a nap. Harry back me up here!"

"Erm, what Sirius said?"

"Don't take his side just because he asked first," pouted james.

"It's not that it's more like I don't know who your talking about and I don't feel like moving," Harry lied picking up Missy and settling into the seat across from Sirius with her on his stomach.

"Two against three! Park it!"

James sighed giving the door to their compartment a longing look.

"Budge up then, I'm not sleeping with Harry's demon cat."

The sound of James and Sirius' snoring quickly filled the compartment but Harry couldn't sleep so he just lay there, stroking Missy rhythmically and turning the events of the morning over in his mind, feeling frustrated and powerless, perhaps even moreso then he'd felt at Headquarters. Voldemort had struck again and here in this time he wasn't even expected to be curious or want to get involved in the burgeoning war but how could he go to classes and pretend to be an average person when he knew just who was running around out there threatening the people he knew and loved?

* * *

**AN: **So, yeah, it's been awhile...my dog ate my laptop? Heheh...sorry I don't have anything even vaguely resembling a valid excuse. This chapter is dedicated to my profs at uni because I wrote this while procrastinating on doing my end of term assignments.

Next, a plea for assistance! I've just realized that i have no idea where this fic is even going anymore, if I ever did, and that is probably the reason for these sporadic pathetically short updates, so with that said anyone with suggestions please PM me or drop me a review!

Still haven't decided the pairing...maybe I should make it a foursome...

Okay, enough of me, hope you guys enjoyed! Please leave a tip *coughreviewcough* on your way back to reality!


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